


The Date 'Verse

by sinnerforhire



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Disability, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wheelchair Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-04
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 53,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerforhire/pseuds/sinnerforhire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared, a down-on-his-luck postal worker, meets Jensen, an attractive wheelchair user, in a bar and the two hit it off instantly.  However, navigating their new relationship through past hurts, uncertain futures, and Jensen's health problems proves challenging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Date By Any Other Name

He's trying really hard not to stare, because he knows it will be misinterpreted. Jared knows that if the Adonis in the corner catches him staring, he'll assume that it's because of his wheelchair and then there's not a chance in hell that he'll give Jared the time of day-- might even tell him off for being rude. But Jared can't help it; the guy is _that_ gorgeous.

Jared's been watching him for twenty minutes now. He looks at the door, looks at his watch, sighs, takes a sip of iced tea, and taps a finger on the arm of his chair every three minutes like clockwork. Another thirty seconds and he's due to start the routine over again. He's wearing a clingy black sweater that does nothing to hide the thick swell of muscle in his upper arms. As a postal clerk, Jared lifts heavy things eight hours a day, five days a week, and he'll bet this guy could probably bench at least twenty pounds more than Jared's record of 215.

Jared waits for the guy to complete his seventh time-checking routine and decides to take his chance. He stands up, grabs his half-empty beer, and takes a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

Jared walks to the corner table. "Um, excuse me," he says, forcing confidence into his voice that he doesn't feel. "Is this seat taken? It's getting a little crowded at the bar."

The guy glances at the door one more time. "I guess not." He waves a hand. "Have a seat."

Jared grins and sits down. "Thanks. I'm Jared, by the way."

"Jensen," the guy responds, his face relaxing into a slightly less hostile expression. "I haven't seen you around here before."

"You come here a lot?"

Jensen nods, lips inching ever closer to a genuine smile. "I like it here. Food's good, service is better."

As if on cue, a waitress steps up to the table. "Oh, you're finally here!" she says to Jared with a bright smile.

Jared grimaces, but Jensen makes the save. "Change of plans, actually. This is Jared."

"Well then, Jared, what can I get you?"

He hasn't even looked at the menu yet. "What's good here?"

"You like seafood? Our specialty is crab cakes."

"Sounds good."

She turns to Jensen. "I like this one," she stage-whispers. "So, the usual?"

"You know it," he replies, handing back the unused menu. She collects Jared's menu as well and heads off to the kitchen.

"I see what you mean about the service," says Jared.

Finally, Jensen smiles. "Oh, she and I go way back."

Jared frowns. Has he misjudged Jensen completely? "Your girlfriend?"

"Hardly," Jensen replies with a chuckle. "We went to college together. She was my roommate's girl, actually, and then she just wouldn't go away." There's a fondness in his eyes that makes Jared's throat tighten with jealousy.

"What did you study in college?" asks Jared.

"Social work." Jensen takes a sip of his iced tea. "I work at the children's hospital, mostly with long-term patients--kids who are in and out of the hospital a lot." He glances down at the table with a shy smile. "I wanted to give something back, you know? And the kids know I understand what they're going through, so most of them don't give me a hard time."

"That's really awesome," says Jared, then he realizes how Jensen could take that. "No! I mean, not that you're--that it's--"

"I know what you meant," says Jensen, and the eyes that meet Jared's are shining with warmth. "I love what I do. It's not all fun and games, but I have a lot more good days than bad. What more could I ask for, right?" He grins. "So what do you do?"

Jared rubs the back of his neck. "Nothing like that," he admits sheepishly. "I work at the post office. Processing and shipping--I'm not a letter carrier. I load and unload trucks, mostly."

"No wonder you're so huge," says Jensen, a sly twinkle in his eye. "You lift heavy boxes all day."

"I don't know, you don't look too bad yourself," Jared replies, nodding at Jensen.

"Well, I race and I swim." Jensen huffs a voiceless chuckle. "Better than sitting at home alone every Saturday night. This is the first date I've been on in...God, about five years."

Jared's eyebrows climb up to his hairline. "But you're--" _Gorgeous_, he wants to say, but thinks better of it. Then it hits him. "We're on a date?"

Jensen frowns. "You mean, you're not--"  

"No!" Jared shouts, then blushes when the surrounding patrons glare at him. "I _am_, I just--I mean, I _hoped_, but--"

Jensen laughs, revealing perfect white teeth and the most adorable crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Okay, so we're both dorks. But I like you, and I think you like me, and there's dinner involved, so I'd say this is a date."

Jared grins so wide his cheeks hurt and picks up his nearly-empty beer. "I'll drink to that."

Jensen clinks his own half-full glass against Jared's. "Me too."


	2. A Date By Any Other Name - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen's first date comes to an end. Jared wonders if they have a future.

"I can't believe it's almost midnight," says Jared. "It feels like I just sat down."

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" asks Jensen.

Jared grins. "As of right now, nothing. Why?"

"My roommate's band is playing a benefit at the community college. Thought maybe you'd want to tag along."

"I'd love to," replies Jared.

Jensen pulls out his iPhone. "Give me your address and phone number and I'll pick you up."

Jared tells Jensen how to get to his apartment. "It's on the second floor and there's no elevator," he cautions Jensen.

Jensen doesn't bat an eye. "That's why I need your number. I'll call you when I get there."

"Oh. Right." Jared recites the digits and Jensen types them into his phone.

"All right, lovebirds, we're closin' up," calls Danneel from the dining room entrance. "Take it to the bar, or better yet, Jensen's place."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Don't mind her." He backs away from the table. "Come on. I know when I'm not wanted," he shouts over his shoulder.

"Love you, baby!" Danneel's voice is slightly muffled by the swinging door.

Jared follows Jensen out to the parking lot. The night is cool and clear, the moon nearly full above their heads. Jensen stops next to a green minivan, the only vehicle parked in the handicap spots near the door.

"I had a really good time tonight," says Jared, shoving his hands in his pockets. He knows he's freakishly tall, but he's never felt it so acutely before. It feels so weird looking down at the top of Jensen's head. He worries that Jensen will get sick of craning his neck to see his face.

Jensen smiles up at him. "I did too." He takes his keys out of his pocket. "I have a race tomorrow morning, or else I would invite you to my place."

"I work tomorrow morning at 6," replies Jared, "so don't feel bad."

"Okay then." Jensen gazes straight into Jared's eyes, expectation lighting up his own.

Jared wants desperately to give Jensen the kiss he's clearly waiting for, but he can't quite figure out the logistics. He takes a hesitant step forward and takes his hands out of his pockets.

Jared's anxiety must be written all over his face because Jensen smiles softly and grabs Jared's hands. "Get down here, you big goof," Jensen murmurs, pulling Jared forward and wrapping Jared's hands around the arms of the chair.

Jensen's lips are just as soft as Jared hoped they would be; he tastes like raspberries from the cheesecake they shared. The kiss is short, but sweet and full of promise, and when Jared pulls away he can hear his quickened heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"Tomorrow night, then," whispers Jensen, moving to release what Jared suddenly realizes are the brakes on his wheels.

Jared's watch beeps, drawing his attention back to reality. "I really should get home--I have to be up in five hours."

Jensen nods. "Good night, Jared."

"Good night." Jared turns and walks across the parking lot to his truck. Jensen taps his horn as he drives past and Jared flicks his lights in response.

As Jared drives home, his mind races, torn between fantasizing about Jensen and wondering about the practicality of his fantasies. He's never known anyone who used a wheelchair and he has no idea why Jensen needs one; closest he's come is seeing Christopher Reeve on TV and he was a lot more limited than Jensen is. He wishes there was some kind of book he could consult--_Dating a Guy in a Wheelchair For Dummies_ or something. Something that would tell him where the line is between curiosity and rudeness, or how many dates should you go on before you bring up the question of sex. He knows there are people in wheelchairs who have kids, but he doesn't know whether those kids are biological or adopted. There's so much to think about that Jared's brain feels muzzy and enervated from trying to contemplate it all at once.

So, when he gets home, he does what any self-respecting 21st-century adult would do--he sits down at his computer and pulls up Google.

It takes him a good deal of time to find what he's looking for, and a lot of it is technical stuff that he doesn't really understand, but he finds a few first-hand stories of men fathering children, so it's clearly possible. He gathers that it's a different experience for every man and the couple of advice columns he reads encourage non-disabled partners to communicate openly and experiment until something clicks.

He's aware that he's counting his chickens before they're even conceived, let alone hatched, but the level of interest Jensen showed earlier seems to Jared to be a pretty good indication that he's going to need to know this stuff down the road.

It's after one o'clock that he finally gets to bed, but he's all smiles when he wakes up at five.


	3. Second Date; Or, Jared Might Be A Little Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen have their second date. It goes well. Then it goes REALLY well.

By the time Jared's phone rings at 6:37, he's practically jumping out of his skin with excitement and anxiety. His hand trembles a bit as he raises the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, you," says Jensen. "I had to park up the street a little bit. I'm by the school."

"I'll be right down," replies Jared. He glances in the mirror one last time, smoothes his hair and straightens the hem of his shirt, then locks his door and walks down the steps to the street.

Jared climbs into the front passenger seat of the van and grins at Jensen. "Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

"No, not at all," replies Jensen with a bright smile. "You don't have to get up early tomorrow, do you?"

"Of course not; It's Sunday," answers Jared. "You have something in mind?"

"Chris is having the band and some of our friends over to our house after the show. And, being my friend, you are naturally invited." Jensen glances in the rearview mirror and pulls away from the curb. It takes Jared a second to notice that Jensen is using a hand lever to control the pedals.

"Sure, sounds like fun," says Jared. "You sure your friends won't mind?"

"Are you kidding? They've been trying to get me out of the house for years." Jensen grins. "And you're so perfect I think Chris doubts that you actually exist."  

Jared's cheeks blaze with heat. He's glad the van is dark so Jensen can't see how hard he's blushing. "I'm not--you know--really _perfect_," he mumbles.

"Well, until I find out otherwise, I get to believe you are," replies Jensen. When he stops at a red light, he reaches over and pats Jared's knee. "I was just kidding. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"You didn't," Jared protests weakly.

"It's just that you're different...in a good way," Jensen quickly amends. "In a really, _really_ good way."

Jared's still blushing, but he breaks into a smile. "Thanks."

They get to the community college performance center a couple minutes later and Jensen parks in one of the numerous blue spaces near the door. He presses two buttons on the dash; a second later, the back door slides open and a small ramp unfolds. Jensen grins at him. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," replies Jared, feeling a little awkward about commenting even though it was Jensen who pointed it out. He climbs out of the van and walks around the back just as the ramp starts folding back up.

"The van was my college graduation present," says Jensen as they head to the accessible entrance around the side of the building. "My brother was pissed--all he got was a ski trip that my little sister and I tagged along on."

 The ramp to the door is half the length of the building and turns around three times. Jensen taps Jared's hip to get his attention. "Hey, mind giving me a hand here?"

"Oh, sure." Jared has to bend down a little to reach the handles on Jensen's chair and once again feels ungainly and self-conscious. He wonders how much time he'll have to spend with Jensen for that feeling to go away and hopes it isn't too long. He pushes Jensen easily up the ramp; Jensen is nowhere near as heavy as the pallets he uses at work. The lobby is full of people, most of whom look to be students. "You said this was a benefit?"

"Yeah, for a scholarship fund for disabled veterans and their children," replies Jensen. "My bleeding-heart liberalism seems to have rubbed off on Chris."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Not too many bleeding-heart liberals around these parts."

Jensen looks up at Jared. "I'm a disabled gay social worker--it's not exactly a choice." A little sideways grin punctuates the statement. "My parents tried to convince me to move to a blue state, but aside from the politics, I really like it here."

Jared nods and smiles shyly. "I'm glad you stayed."

The crowd around them shifts. "Doors must be open," says Jensen, turning toward the entrance. When they get to the door, a purple-haired usher gives Jensen a syrupy smile. "Accessible seating is at the top of the lower right section," she says in a rehearsed monotone.

The aisle looks pretty steep, so Jared grasps the handles and guides Jensen's chair down to the alcove set aside for accessible seating. They're actually in pretty good seats, just about level with the stage. A large red banner stretched across the stage proclaims the show to be a "Battle of the Bands."

Chris's band is the fourth to perform. Jensen points out Chris, his roommate, and Chris's boyfriend Steve. Chris doesn't look anything like Jared imagined a friend of Jensen's would; with his long hair, broad shoulders, and tight jeans he looks like the typical Texan stereotype. He has a great voice, though, and Jared ends up really enjoying his music.

 They sit through the pre-intermission acts out of politeness and duck out when the lights come back up. Jensen leads Jared to a back hallway where Chris and his buddies are loading up their gear. "Hey, great job, man," says Jensen.

"Thanks," says Chris. "We're gonna leave Tim and Jason here for the results and head out early. Steve's gonna pick up beer and pizza and meet us back at the house. That cool?"

"Yeah, sure." Jensen smacks Chris's arm. "Manners, Kane. Say hi to Jared."

Chris looks up. "Oh, hey, didn't see you there. Sorry." He holds out a hand. "How you doing, Jared?"

Jared accepts Chris's outstretched hand. "Good. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Chris pulls back and yells at someone outside the open door. "Fuckin' kids. You two can head back; this is gonna take at least twenty more minutes."

The drive to Jensen's house doesn't take very long. Jared tries to calm the butterflies in his stomach by reminding himself that he's meeting Jensen's friends and they're probably not going to be alone for more than a few minutes.

The house has two stories, which surprises Jared. A wooden ramp with a very gentle incline stretches from the driveway to the front door. Jared follows Jensen through the extra-wide front door into the house.

"We're gonna be downstairs in the rec room," says Jensen as he wheels past Jared. Confused, Jared follows Jensen through the living room and dining room to another wide doorway. Jensen flips on a light and a staircase comes into view. "You can go first."

Jared hurries down the stairs and turns around to see just how Jensen is going to come down. He hears a humming noise and looks up to see Jensen's chair sitting on a platform that slowly glides down the steps on a rail attached to the wall. Jensen grins down at him. "You should have seen the look on your face. You thought I was crazy, didn't you?"

Jared feels his cheeks heat up again. "No!"

Jensen chuckles. "I won't get mad if you ask, Jared. I'll get mad if you assume." The platform reaches the bottom and Jensen wheels onto the linoleum tiles, pressing a button that folds the platform flat against the wall.

Jared follows Jensen into the gigantic rec room. There's a bar along one wall complete with refrigerator, a large card table with several folding chairs, a sectional sofa and recliner, an HDTV on the wall and a large cabinet underneath flanked by speakers. "Oh, man, this is amazing!" says Jared. "Not to be rude or anything, but how did you...you know--"

"Afford all this?" Jensen finishes with a grin. "The house was already modified when we bought it. The elderly man who put in all the accessible stuff had a live-in aide, so the top floor is a finished apartment with everything at normal height. The only thing I had to add was the stair lift."

Jensen's friends turn up after that and soon the rec room is buzzing with activity. Everyone acknowledges Jared, but only Chris makes any real effort to draw him into the conversation. Eventually Jared finds himself alone at the table, wondering how long he has to stay before he can make a polite but hasty exit.

Jensen coasts to a stop in front of him. "Chris is getting out the Xbox; do you want to go upstairs where it's a little quieter?"

"Um..." Jared desperately wants to say yes, but he doesn't want to pull Jensen away from his friends. "If your friends won't mind..."

  Jensen grins. "I think they'll kill me if I _don't_ try to get you alone." He tugs on Jared's wrist. "Come on."

They go back upstairs to Jensen's living room, which is a miniature version of the rec room with the furniture spaced out to create wide pathways. Jensen motions to a slightly worn sofa. "Have a seat. You want me to put in a movie or something?"

Jared shrugs. "Sure, whatever you want."

Jensen retrieves a remote from a pocket attached to the arm of the couch. "Or I could just do this." He clicks a button and the lights dim halfway. He presses another button and the stereo in the corner starts playing soft music. He grins and rolls up next to the couch. "Shove over a little."

Jared slides sideways and tries not to stare as Jensen moves the arm of his chair and hoists himself onto the couch. One of Jared's questions is answered when Jensen uses his hands to pull his legs clear of the chair. Jensen smiles softly. "Okay, now get back here."

Jared's stomach flutters wildly as he shifts toward Jensen. He's not exactly sure what's happening here and he feels as nervous as he did in the back of Katie McCloskey's car on prom night. He wonders if Jensen can actually hear his heart pounding like a bass drum.

Jensen twines his fingers in Jared's hair and pulls him in close. "I'm not made of glass; I won't break," he whispers, lips so close to Jared's face that Jensen's warm breath tickles his cheek. He presses a quick kiss to Jared's cheekbone and then to the corner of his lips. Jared takes the hint and allows Jensen's tongue to plunge past his lips. Jensen's fingers tighten on the back of his neck and his other hand comes up to cup Jared's jaw tenderly, a sharp contrast to the bold, hungry kiss.

Jared can't for the life of him figure out what to do with his hands. He finally settles on resting one along the top of the couch and grasping Jensen's shoulder with the other. Jensen sucks greedily at Jared's lips, tonguing the inside of Jared's mouth like he expects some sort of test later. He slides a hand under the hem of Jared's shirt and flicks a finger over his nipple, instantly making it harden. It's not the only thing that does--Jared's dick squashes painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He pulls back. "We can't--not here--"

Jensen presses a finger against Jared's lips to silence him. "I locked the door," he assures him. "No one can come in." He traces his fingertip down Jared's chin to the dip between his collarbones. "It's just us," he whispers, pushing the hem of Jared's shirt up to his neck. Jared takes the hint and tugs his shirt off. "That's better," breathes Jensen.

Jared feels torn between really, _really_ wanting to see this through and not wanting to seem too easy. He just met Jensen yesterday, after all. But Jensen is tonguing one nipple and rolling the other between his fingers and Jared's rational mind turns in its resignation notice and storms off in a huff.

"God, your _abs_," murmurs Jensen, tracing a finger along the well-defined creases. "They're so--_firm_." Jensen eases Jared onto his back and begins licking his way down Jared's stomach, using his hands to unfasten Jared's jeans. Jared whimpers as Jensen pushes the constricting fabric out of the way and frees Jared's leaking cock.

"Fucking Christ," Jensen gasps, his hot breath across the head nearly enough to make Jared come right there. He tugs on Jared's arm, pulling him halfway to sitting. "Get up. On your knees."

Jared quickly does as he's told, shucking his jeans and shoes off completely and climbing back on the couch. Jensen's eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire. Jensen takes the head of Jared's cock into his mouth, licking a trail around the sensitive ridge. He tongues a bead of precome from the tip and then flutters his tongue over the slit in a move that makes Jared's knees go weak. He has to grab the top of the couch cushion to keep from losing his balance. Jensen's fingers encircle the base of the shaft and stroke lightly as he takes a little more of Jared's length into his mouth. When Jensen presses a finger behind Jared's balls, he comes so hard he sees dark spots in his field of vision. He collapses onto the couch and presses his lips to Jensen's just to taste himself in Jensen's mouth. He can't hold the kiss very long, though; he slumps against the back of the couch and pulls away to catch his breath.

"That was..." Jared pants, cursing his current lack of rational mind. "Just..._wow_."

Jensen smiles and Jared notices a hint of the fondness he saw last night. "You are adorable." He brushes a damp lock of hair away from Jared's eyes. "And proportionate. God _damn_." Jared figures Jensen won't notice him blushing when his face is probably bright red from exertion. "I think I'll keep you."

Jared's grin is so wide it makes his cheeks hurt a little. "I can live with that."


	4. The Ex Files

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen run into Jared's ex. Both of them make bad decisions afterward.

"Hey, you busy right now?"

Jared turns off the TV. "No, not at all. Got something in mind?"

"I need to go to the bookstore. Thought maybe you'd like to come along," replies Jensen. "We can grab some food after, if you want."

"Yeah, that sounds great." Jared grins. It's only been three days since he last saw Jensen but it feels more like three weeks.

"Pick you up in twenty?"

"Make it thirty? I just got off work an hour ago and I should probably shower."

Jensen chuckles. "No problem. See you later."

When they get to the bookstore, Jensen hands Jared a large canvas tote bag. "Pedes Oncology got a big donation last month and they put aside some money to replace the books in the treatment rooms. Hope you don't mind doing some extra heavy lifting."

Jared smiles. "Not at all. It's really cool that you volunteer your free time to do stuff like that."

He follows Jensen to the children's section of the store. Jensen points him to the chapter book shelves. "Start with the staff picks; those are usually good. Try to pick equal numbers of boy and girl books, and get five or six from each age level." Jensen motions to the picture books. "I'll be over here."

Jared spends the most time looking at the Young Adult section. The books sure have changed since he was in high school. Now it seems like every book is either about vampires, rich girls, or vampires falling in love with rich girls. He tries to pick novels that don't have super-skinny models on the covers. He walks around the corner to find Jensen and nearly plows right into a petite dark-haired girl.

"Oh, crap, I'm sorry, I didn't--" Jared stops short when he gets a look at her face. "_Sandy_?"

"Jared!" She takes a small step back. "I didn't really recognize you with the hat and everything."  

"You look good," he tells her with a sincere smile. "What are you in town for?"

"Audition," she answers, reaching up to adjust her purse strap with her left hand, which is sporting a pretty massive diamond. "Tom and I are staying the weekend. I made him promise that it would be just us--no iPhone, no netbook, no communication with the outside world whatsoever." She rolls her eyes. "We'll see. How are you doing?"

"I'm good," he replies. "Got a job with the post office--no more night shift. It's still a little weird needing sunglasses to drive to work."

Before she can reply, Jared catches sight of Jensen and waves him over. "Jensen, this is my old friend Sandy. Sandy, this is my new friend Jensen."

 Her eyes darken. "Yeah, I know what kind of _friend_ he is," she spits. "You always were a sucker for a pretty face and a sob story."

"You have a problem with me, fine, but leave him out of this," Jared replies, clenching one fist so hard his nails dig into his palm.

"God isn't going to look kindly on your deviance just because your _partner_," she says with a nasty sneer at Jensen, "is a charity case."

"What happened to you?" Jared asks sadly. "You used to be nice."

"You used to be straight," she snaps, turning on her heel and storming away.

Jared takes a deep breath. "I'm really sorry," he says quietly to Jensen. "It's just...it's a long story."

"Don't worry about it." Jensen takes Jared's hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll check out and then I'll take you for a drink. You look like could use one."

"Thanks." Jared shoulders the tote bag and follows Jensen to the counter.

When they get to the bar, Jensen leads him to his usual corner table. Danneel isn't working that night, but Jensen seems to know tonight's waiter, Gabe, pretty well also. Jensen never actually orders anything, but a couple minutes later Gabe returns with iced tea for Jensen and a glass of something blue that he sets down in front of Jared. "What is this?" he asks.

"It's called 'The Lowdown' or 'The Broken Heart Special'," replies Jensen. "It's good. Try it."

Jared is a little surprised that it actually does turn out to be good. He drinks half of it in one go and turns to Jensen. "Listen, about before..."  

"You don't owe me an explanation," says Jensen. "If you want to talk about it, we can, but if not, we don't have to."

"It's okay." Jared picks up his butter knife and fiddles with it. "Sandy and I grew up together. I can't even remember a time before I knew her. We dated all through high school and went to college together." He takes another drink. "Everyone knew we were gonna get married after graduation and finally give Momma the grandbabies she wanted."

"So what happened?" Jensen says quietly.

"We went to this party junior year. It was at an off-campus apartment, so there was a ton of alcohol. Neither of us had ever had more than a couple sips of champagne at weddings." Jared takes a deep breath. "Long story short, I ended up in a back bedroom with a guy from my poetry class, and...something just clicked. I felt like Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz_, waking up in color after a lifetime of black and white." He drains his glass. "And that's when I knew she wasn't the one for me--that no girl ever would be."

Jensen nods. "She didn't take it very well, I'm guessing."

Jared sighs and stabs his napkin with the butter knife. "I made the mistake of telling her the truth. I'd never lied to her before and I didn't think it was fair to start then." Gabe arrives with another drink and Jared downs half of it before Gabe even turns around. Once he leaves, Jared goes on. "She went home and told everyone. I guess our pastor said that if she prayed hard enough, she could 'fix' me."

"God," Jensen whispers.

"My dad kicked me out of the house. I haven't been back there since. Momma comes to visit me on my birthday and holidays."

Jensen reaches across the table and plucks the knife out of Jared's hand, then twines his fingers with Jared's and squeezes tight. "That must have been awful for you."

Jared finishes his second drink and stares at the placemat. "I had to drop out of school--I couldn't go back and face all our friends. I took all my money out of the bank and came up here. I got a job with UPS and worked night shift because it paid more. I never really had the chance to meet anybody because I slept most of the day. I applied to the post office a year later and they hired me six months ago." He looks up at Jensen and forces his lips into a weak semblance of a smile. "And here we are."

Another drink, this one in a much taller glass, appears in front of Jared. He nods his gratitude at Gabe and starts in on his third drink in half an hour. He's got enough leave time that he can take tomorrow off if he needs to, and if there's a better reason to get completely shit-faced drunk, Jared can't think of it.

Jensen points to the chair beside Jared. "Move that chair aside." Jared does as he's told, his vision swimming when he turns around. Jensen comes around to Jared's side of the table and slides in next to him. He takes Jared's hand once again and presses his shoulder against Jared's. "I had no idea," he murmurs. "I wish I could just wave my magic wand and make everything better."

"Yeah, tha'd be nice," Jared agrees, tongue thick in his mouth. He takes another drink and leans into Jensen. "Y'know, I wasn't even s'posed to be here on Saturday. I was meetin' a co-worker's nephew and I got the names o' the bars mixed up."

Jensen nudges his shoulder. "Well, I'm sure glad you did, or we'd have never met at all."

"An' that would be bad," replies Jared. "'Cause I like you. A lot."

"I like you too," says Jensen, smiling. "You're different from most people. You look at my face when we're talking, not my chair."

"Why wouldn't I? Your face is beautiful." Jared cups Jensen's cheek and turns it towards him. "I'd look at your face all day 'f I could."

"And you don't try to do everything for me," adds Jensen.

Jared shrugs. "You'r'n adult, 's not like you dunno how t'do stuff for yourself."

Jensen shakes his head. "You're pretty drunk." He grins wickedly. "Maybe I should take you home."

"An' have your way with me?" Jared raises an eyebrow.

"Sure, if you're conscious." Jensen back away from the table. "Think you can get to the van by yourself."

"'m not tha' drunk," Jared protests, but when he stands up, the room starts to spin around him and he stumbles into the side of the table.

"Oh, yes, you are. Stay here." Jensen wheels off toward the bar and comes back with a tall guy in an earflap hat. "Mike here is gonna help you out," he tells Jared.

Mike wraps an arm around Jared's waist and lifts Jared's arm over his shoulder. "Come on, Sasquatch." He puts Jared in Jensen's van and even buckles the seatbelt for him. "Stay out of trouble," he says with a wink.

"He was nice," says Jared once they're on the road.

"He's a good guy," Jensen agrees. "Yell if you need me to pull over, I really don't want you to puke in my van."

"'m good." Jared slumps against the back of the seat and closes his eyes. Next thing he knows, someone's trying to drag him out of the van. "Lemme 'lone," he mutters.

"Jesus Christ, Jensen," says the person. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"I may have--_overestimated_\--his tolerance a bit," answers Jensen. "Guy's built like a brick shithouse; you'd think he'd hold his liquor better than that."

There's a flurry of colors and light and movement and finally Jared finds himself stripped to his boxers in Jensen's bed, covered by a light quilt and really soft sheets. If he strains, he can hear Jensen and his friend--Chris, he thinks his name is--talking outside the door.

"He's a good guy, Jen. That was a pretty shitty thing to do."

 "I wanted to know the truth up front," says Jensen. "So I'd know if I was wasting my time."

"Well, I hope you're happy, 'cause that kid in there is somethin' special and it seems like the only person who can't see that is you."

"It's not that I can't see it," replies Jensen. "It's just that you guys thought that about Brian too, and look how that turned out."

"That was eight _years_ ago, Jensen. It's time to get the fuck over it."

There's a pause. "You wouldn't understand," mutters Jensen.

 "Whatever." Jared hears footsteps before Chris speaks again. "Tomorrow morning, he's your problem."

A few minutes of silence pass by and Jared is just about to fall asleep when the light turns on and Jensen pulls up to the bed. "Can you sit up? I brought you some water."

Jared pushes himself up, squeezing his eyes shut when the room starts spinning. "Take it easy," Jensen whispers. He places a capsule in Jared's hand. "Take this and drink that whole bottle of water and tomorrow will be much, much easier." Jared complies slowly and doesn't argue when Jensen pushes him down on the pillow and whispers, "Sleep."

Jared wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling and a mild headache. He lifts his head to look around, which makes his stomach do a swan dive, and the first thing he sees is Jensen's sandy brown hair sticking out from the quilt. It comes back to him with the force of a freight train: the bar, the blue drinks, Sandy verbally attacking both of them at the bookstore. He vaguely remembers telling Jensen about getting kicked out of his house, but that's the last thing he can recall clearly.

He takes a deep breath and sits up. There's a big sports bottle on the table beside him with a note taped on instructing Jared to drink it upon waking up. He reaches for the bottle and hears a rustling sound behind him. "Hey, you," murmurs Jensen. "How are you feeling?"

"Not that bad," Jared replies, turning to face him. "Did you give me something? Last night?"

Jensen nods. "A B-complex vitamin and 24 ounces of water. One of my doctors told me that's the best way to prevent a hangover besides not getting drunk in the first place." He taps a finger on the bottle of water in Jared's hand. "Drink up. I already called the hospital and told them I'd be late, so I can run you home whenever you're ready."

 "Thanks." Jared swallows more water. "For everything."

Jensen grins. "Wasn't exactly how I planned our first night in bed together. I'll have to make it up to you."

"Sounds good," Jared replies, but he can't really make himself sound convincing. "I'm really sorry, man. I can't believe I let myself go overboard like that. I'm not really a big drinker normally."

Jensen puts a hand on Jared's knee. "You had a bad day. It happens to the best of us." He smiles. "You're pretty cute when you're drunk."

"Really?"

Jensen leans over and kisses him on the nose. "Adorable."


	5. Bump in the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen winds up in the hospital, Jared worries, and Chris spills a few beans.

Jared paces in front of the window for the fifteenth time. Jensen was supposed to pick him up twenty minutes ago. It's not like him to be late. Just as he pushes the button on his phone to check the time, the phone rings. "Hey, Jensen, what's up?"

"Emergency at work," Jensen replies, and he sounds distracted. "Rain check? I don't think I'll get out of here any time soon."

"Sure, no problem. Do what you have to do." He's disappointed, but he's an adult; he can handle it. "Call me later."

"Yeah." The phone clicks off.

It's almost midnight when Jensen calls back. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was up," Jared replies. "What happened?"

Jensen sighs, making the line crackle with static. "An eight-year-old girl had a seizure in the playroom. She hasn't woken up yet and it doesn't look like she'll pull through."

"Oh, God, that's awful," murmurs Jared.

"There were a half-dozen other kids in the room at the time," Jensen goes on, "all of them worried about her and terrified that they'd be next. I did what I could, but confronting your own mortality at six or seven years old is pretty damn scary."

"I can't imagine." Jared really has no idea what to say. "How are _you_ doing?"

"I love my job and wouldn't want to do anything else, but days like this..." His voice cracks. "It never gets any easier."

"You want me to come over?"

There's a short pause before Jensen answers. "Nah, I think I'm just gonna go to bed. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay." Jared stands up. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."  

"Thanks," says Jensen softly. The call ends a second later.

Jared has a hard time getting to sleep that night. Hearing Jensen, who's usually so irreverent and lively, sounding so dejected and weary was unsettling, to say the least. It's clear that Jensen takes his job seriously--maybe _too_ seriously. Jared doesn't know much about social workers, but his mother is a teacher and he knows how emotionally invested she gets in her students, taking pride in their successes and viewing their setbacks as personal failures. It seems to be a consequence of working with kids.

Jensen calls the next night. "I don't really feel like going out tonight. Can you just come over and watch a movie or something?"

"Sure, whatever you want." Jensen sounds a little less burdened but still nothing like his usual self. "I'll be over in twenty minutes."

When he gets to Jensen's house, he finds Chris sitting on the rail of the ramp, like he's been waiting for him. "What's going on?"

"Something's been buggin' him all week," says Chris. "He won't talk to me. See if you can get it out of him."

"Okay," Jared agrees.

Chris jumps down and heads around the side of the house. "It's open."

Jared cautiously pushes the door open. "Jensen? It's me."

"Kitchen," Jensen calls back.

Jared walks down the wide hallway into the kitchen. Once inside, he feels a little like Gandalf in Bag End; the counters and cabinets are considerably lower than those in a regular kitchen. Jensen sits in front of a tabletop that appears to fold down from the wall. He sets an empty glass down and turns around. "Hey, Jared."

Jared frowns. "You all right?" Jensen's face is pale except for the pink flush on his cheekbones, a sharp contrast to the bruise-blue shadows under his eyes. He looks exhausted.

Jensen shrugs. "I'm okay." Jared follows him into the living room. "DVDs are over there," he says, pointing to the low shelves beside the window. "Pick whatever you want."

Jared doesn't really look at what he puts in the DVD player. He turns around to find Jensen shivering on the couch. "Can you grab that blanket for me?" Jensen asks, pointing to a wooden quilt rack.

Jared complies hesitantly. "Jen, if you're sick, I can go home."

 "Not sick," Jensen replies, sounding like a petulant child. Jared hands him the blue fleece blanket and Jensen wraps up in it. He pats the cushion next to him and raises an eyebrow.

Jared grins and shakes his head. "What are you, five years old?" He sits down next to Jensen and slides an arm around his shoulders.

Jensen snuggles close, resting his head on Jared's shoulder. "You're a good pillow," he murmurs.

"You just want me for my body," teases Jared.

"Damn straight."

Jared presses his chin against Jensen's forehead. He's a little warm, but not overly so; he's probably coming down with something. Stubborn idiot.

Stubborn, _adorable_ idiot.

As Jared expected, Jensen falls asleep about fifteen minutes into the movie. Jared half-listens to the movie and half-listens to Jensen breathe. Jensen's head is a solid but not unwelcome weight on Jared's shoulder, his arm resting lightly on Jared's lap. He seems to be completely out. Jared shakes his head. "You should be in bed," he whispers to his unconscious companion.

Next thing Jared knows, someone's shaking him. He tries to shrug off the offending hand, but he's smothered in something heavy and really, _really_ hot. He blinks a few times to bring the room into focus and gasps when he realizes that it's Jensen draped all over him and not an electric blanket, and the shaking is Jensen shivering so hard he's almost convulsing.

He carefully disentangles himself from Jensen and lays him flat on the couch. Jensen's face is a pasty gray color, but his cheeks are so red they look sunburned. A hand on Jensen's forehead confirms that he's burning up. Jensen whimpers slightly when Jared touches him but doesn't wake. Jared runs a hand through his hair. He has absolutely no idea what to do now... but he does know someone who might.

He digs in Jensen's pockets until he finds his phone and scrolls through the contacts to find Chris. He pushes the button with a trembling finger and sighs with relief when Chris answers on the first ring. "What's up, Jen?"

"Chris? It's Jared. Something's wrong with Jensen." Jared takes a deep breath. "He's--I think he's really sick."

"Goddammit," growls Chris. "I'll be right down."

Jared clicks off the phone and puts it back where he found it. He jumps when the door slams open. Chris hurries past him and into the kitchen without a word. He hears Chris swear softly and start back down the hall.

"What's going on?"

"I'll explain in the car," Chris answers tersely, shoving past Jared. He pulls Jensen upright and taps on each side of his lower back, right over each kidney, if Jared remembers correctly from health class. Jensen doesn't stir and Chris lets out a short sigh of relief. "He needs to go to the hospital. We'll take my car. Grab him."

"You mean pick him up?" Jared sputters. He spins around to look at Chris, who is folding up Jensen's wheelchair. "I won't--hurt him?"

"Not if you do it right," barks Chris. "One arm under his shoulders, one arm under his knees."  

Jared does as he's told, scooping Jensen off the couch. He doesn't weigh very much, and it's then that Jared realizes how small Jensen is compared to himself. He's only about as tall as Jared was at twelve or thirteen.

He follows Chris out the back door to his car. Chris opens the back door hastily before shoving Jensen's wheelchair in the trunk. Jared carefully sets Jensen down on the backseat and climbs in after him, shifting him so his head rests on Jared's lap. Jensen moans a little but settles when Jared strokes his hair. "I want to know what's going on," he tells Chris.

"It's an infection," Chris replies. "He's been taking antibiotics for it, but he missed a couple doses yesterday and it caught up to him." He glances in the rearview mirror and gives Jared a tense half-smile. "A couple days of IV antibiotics and he'll be fine."

"So this happens a lot?"

Chris shakes his head. "Not anymore. He's a lot better about taking care of himself, but with what happened yesterday..."

Jared nods. "He seemed pretty upset."

"That's how he is." Chris slows for a yellow light. "He's never been great with that whole 'professional detachment' thing."

"How long have you known him?"

"I was fifteen when we met," answers Chris. "He was thirteen. We were both in the hospital for surgery and they assigned us to the same room." He chuckles. "I was so pissed, being stuck with this little pipsqueak kid who couldn't even walk. He whupped my ass in a wheelchair race and we've been friends ever since."

Jensen stirs. "Ja--"

"Hey," Jared murmurs. "It's okay, we're taking you to the hospital." He finds Jensen's hand and squeezes it gently. "Just relax, I've got you."

 Chris pulls the car up to the emergency entrance. "Stay here. I'll be back." He pulls a manila envelope out of the glove compartment and gets out. He returns a few minutes later with a nurse, an orderly, and a gurney.

Chris helps Jared out of the backseat and the orderly helps Jared get Jensen on the gurney. Jared watches them disappear into the chaotic emergency department. He starts when Chris calls to him. "Shut the door. I gotta move the car."

Jared closes the back door and Chris drives off toward the visitor parking lot. He stands with his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do next. This is all new to him--going to the emergency room as a friend and not a patient. It's frightening in a whole different way.

Finally, Chris rounds the corner. "Nothin' to do now but wait," he says, gesturing to the door. "Once they get him admitted to a room we'll be able to see him."

They take seats on a threadbare couch near the window. The TV bolted to the ceiling is playing CNN muted with the captions on while dull Muzak plays over the PA system. "How bad are you freaking out?" asks Chris.

"Pretty bad," Jared admits. "I never really thought about something like this. He seems so..._together_, I guess."

"He is, most of the time." Chris leans forward, elbows on his knees. "But he ain't perfect and that bugs the shit out of him."  

Jared frowns. "Nobody's perfect. Nobody _can_ be."

Chris snorts. "Good luck telling him that. See, where he works, they treat him like he's this--mascot, almost. The shining example of what those kids can be if they just push through the pain and work really hard. So he's got this idea in his head that he has to, like, 'be all he can be' and all that shit." He sits up. "So stuff like this, it hits him really hard. Kinda drops him flat on his ass back into reality."

"So...what do I do?"

"Smile. Listen. Be yourself." Chris gives him a lopsided grin. "You're good for him. He's crazy about you, man. You should see him after he talks to you, he's all stupid happy for like, hours."

  Jared smiles. "I really like him, too."

Chris slaps him on the back. "Good, because he's gonna start pulling shit to try and make you leave. Don't let him get away with it."

A silver-haired nurse in a yellow daisy-print scrub shirt comes out. "They took him upstairs to 581. The east wing is under construction, so you'll have to use the central elevator."

Chris nods and smiles. "Thanks, Dawn."

"Wish I could say I'm glad to see you," she replies.

 Chris huffs a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I know what you mean. See ya later."

It's a long walk to Jensen's room on the fifth floor. Jared's stomach is in knots as they pass open door after open door. Finally they reach the door marked 581 and Jared hesitantly follows Chris inside.

It's not as bad as Jared was expecting, fortunately. Jensen is still flushed and glassy-eyed but he's awake and he grins as they walk in. "Damn, I was hoping for a hot nurse," he jokes. The IV in his left arm and the clip on his right index finger are the only visible medical apparatus. He motions for Jared to come closer. "But I can settle for you."

Jared sits in the chair next to the bed and carefully slips his hand into Jensen's. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry about that," replies Jensen. "It just kinda hit me all at once." He looks up at Chris. "How much did you tell him?"

"Not a whole lot," answers Chris.

Jensen nods. "Good." He strokes his thumb over Jared's and looks right into his eyes. "There's some stuff we need to talk about."

"Tomorrow," Chris says sternly. "You need to get some rest."

Jensen glares at him. "Overbearing mother hen."

 "Stubborn irresponsible jackass," Chris retorts.

"Take your grumpy ass home," says Jensen. "I want some time with Jared. _Alone_."

Chris mock-salutes. "Sir, yes sir." His mouth twists into a lazy smirk. "Stay outta trouble."

Jensen grins wickedly. "Trouble is my middle name."

"Damn right it is," grumbles Chris. "Call me tomorrow." Jensen nods and Chris backs out of the room.

"I promise, I'll tell you everything," says Jensen once they're alone. "But for now, can you just...be here?"

Jared smiles softly. "Of course, Jen. Whatever you want."

"There's a deck of cards in that drawer," Jensen tells him, pointing to the bedside table. "Ever play Egyptian Rat Screw?"

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Is that a card game or a sexual position?"

Jensen laughs. "You are something else, Jay."

_Jay_. Jared grins. He likes the sound of that.


	6. A Little More Conversation, A Little Less Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~Clarissa~~ Jensen explains it all.

When Jared walks into Jensen's room the next day, Jensen is dozing beneath a colorful crazy quilt. He looks a lot better--the dark shadows under his eyes and the bright flush on his cheeks are gone and his color is almost back to normal. Even asleep he looks more like the Jensen that Jared met in the bar more than a month ago.

He tries to be quiet as he takes a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair so as not to wake Jensen up, but he doesn't succeed. Jensen's eyes flutter open and he smiles brightly at Jared. "Best part of waking up," he whispers.

Jared can't help smiling back. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Jensen replies, retrieving a paper cup from the bed tray. After a few sips of what Jared assumes is water, he sits up straighter. "They can let me go home tomorrow morning if I don't have a fever."  
 Jared nods. "That's good."

"I'm not allowed to go back to work till Wednesday," he adds. "Are you allowed to have your phone turned on at work?"

"Yeah, but I'm not supposed to use it except on breaks," answers Jared.

Jensen's face falls. "Damn, I was hoping we could have tweet sex." He keeps a straight face for about three seconds before they both burst out laughing.

"I have the early morning shift all this week, so I'll be done at three," says Jared. "I could swing by your place after work, if you want."

"You don't wear that cute little uniform with the shorts, do you?" asks Jensen.

Jared shakes his head. "Sorry, I'm a polo shirt and jeans guy."

Jensen raises an eyebrow and grins suggestively. "Think you could steal one of those?"

"You have a thing for _letter carriers_?" Jared sputters. "That's a little weird."

Jensen shrugs. "What can I say? Guys in uniform are hot. Even mail guys."

Jared snorts. "I'd look pretty dumb in one of those uniforms."

"Nah, you'd look good in anything." Jensen smirks. "But you'd look even better in nothing."

Jared feels his cheeks start to burn. "Stop it, we're in the freaking _hospital_."

"You don't want to play 'doctor' with me?" Jensen pouts. "You're no fun at all."

They're interrupted by the arrival of a nurse. "Good morning, Jensen," she says, smiling.

"Hey, Wendy," Jensen replies as she winds the blood pressure cuff around his arm. "How's Jack?" 

The nurse chats amiably about her young son as she takes the readings she needs and does something involving bags of fluid on the other side of Jensen's bed. Jared tries not to look interested in what she's doing even though he really wants to know. He's been trying not to push Jensen, figuring that he'd tell Jared about his condition when he was ready, but it's been more than a month and Jared is dying to know the details.

The nurse leaves and Jared jumps in before Jensen can say anything. "Look, Jensen, I--I think maybe we should, um...have that talk now."

Jensen nods. "Okay." He pushes the bed tray aside and shifts so he's facing Jared. "I'll try not to bore you too badly with the medical jargon. So, you want me to start at the beginning?"

"Sure," replies Jared, giving Jensen an encouraging smile.

"I was born with a condition called spina bifida. I have the most severe type, called myelomeningocele. Basically, my spinal column didn't develop right and the nerves that control the lower part of my body were damaged beyond repair. I had an operation on my spine right after I was born and a couple months later I had another operation to drain fluid out of my skull."

Jared's eyes widen. "Jesus."

Jensen shrugs. "It's not like I knew it was happening at the time. The first surgery I remember is the one I had when I was five for what they call a 'tethered cord'. It means that the end of my spinal cord was attached to the wrong part of my back. Up to then I could walk with braces and crutches, but the tethered cord caused a lot of scar tissue to form that led to total paralysis. I've been using a wheelchair ever since."

"Yeah, I could kind of tell that you've been using it for a long time," Jared admits hesitantly.

Jensen smiles softly. "It's all I've ever known, Jay. I was never able to walk unassisted, so I can't really miss it. Even with braces and crutches I couldn't keep up with other kids. Getting up and walking just a few steps was a huge chore. Honestly, I like the wheelchair better. I'd probably use one even if I still had some mobility."

Jared nods. Jensen's expression turns serious and he looks straight into Jared's eyes as though challenging him to look away. "My legs aren't the only part of me that doesn't work right. Just about everything below my ribcage is fucked up to some degree--digestive system, bladder, kidneys, and especially my dick. Right now I'm being treated for a urinary tract infection. I get a lot of those and I have to be careful that they don't progress to my kidneys and cause serious irreversible damage. I have to be really careful to eat right and stick to a schedule so I don't pee my pants...or worse. I have a hell of a time getting an erection and I usually can't keep it if I do." He pauses. "This is the part where you freak out and decide I'm not worth it."

"I'm not going to do that," replies Jared, holding Jensen's gaze. "Chris told me you were gonna try to run me off. You're not getting rid of me that easily." He sits up straighter. "I read some stuff on the Internet. There's things you can do about the sex issue--drugs and injections and procedures. And I don't _care_ about the other stuff." He reaches forward and places his hand over Jensen's. "What I like about you has nothing to do with your body. You're funny and sweet and you have a huge heart and you make me feel like I'm someone special instead of a dorky college dropout with a crappy job."

Jensen stays silent for a long, torturous minute. Then a smile spreads across his face and his eyes shine with affection and all the warmth of the summer sun. "And that is what we call the right answer." He yanks Jared forward into a bone-crushing embrace.

"You said I was different," he reminds Jensen. "I _am_ different. In a good way."

Jensen releases Jared just enough to reposition him for a zealous but tender kiss. "If the nurse wasn't coming in five minutes I would express my feelings properly," Jensen murmurs.

"There'll be time," says Jared. "I'm not going anywhere."


	7. Surprises and Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared surprises Jensen with dinner. Jensen is very, VERY grateful.

Jared walks up the steps to the front door of Chris's apartment. He has no idea if Chris will be there; he doesn't even know where--or if--Chris works. He presses the button next to the door and waits.

Jared is just about to leave when Chris opens the door. He's dressed in a t-shirt and sweats and his hair is still damp. Jared takes a small step backwards. "Did I come at a bad time?"

Chris shakes his head. "'s'all good. Come on in."

Jared is slightly surprised by how neat and well-kept the apartment looks; he'd expected it to look like a college student's, with junk strewn all over the floor and every surface covered in beer cans and dirty dishes. He follows Chris to the kitchen and Chris nods toward the empty chair. "So, I need your help with something."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Oh really?" He slides a frozen pizza into the oven. "What kinda 'something' you got in mind?"

"I want to surprise Jensen," Jared answers, "since he's had a pretty rough week. I was hoping you could let me borrow your kitchen to cook and keep Jensen out of the house while I get everything ready."

"What are you thinking about cooking?"

"Some sort of chicken, maybe? I haven't really decided yet," Jared answers, fidgeting under Chris's intense scrutiny. "Why?"

"There's a lot of foods that he has to avoid," replies Chris. "He's allergic to almost every fruit plus chestnuts and turnips, he can't have alcohol, and he doesn't eat cheese, red meat, or anything fried."

Jared's eyes widen. "Wow. Okay. Can you write that down for me?"

 Chris opens a drawer and takes something out of a blue folder. He shakes his head and gives Jared a little sideways smile. "Wasn't sure I'd ever have anyone to give this to." He hands Jared a laminated card. "This is all the medical stuff you need to know about him: everything he's allergic to, how to use the Epi-Pen, what meds he takes, his doctors' numbers and when you need to call them--basically everything you need to know in an emergency."

Jared accepts the card. Both sides are covered in small, cramped printing. Then he remembers something. "What was in that envelope you had at the hospital?"

"His medical history and insurance information," says Chris. "I'll make you a copy for your car, just in case."

The oven buzzes and Chris retrieves his pizza. "You guys must be really close," remarks Jared. "I think it's cool, the way you watch out for him. Not everybody has a friend like that."

Chris pulls a knife out of a drawer and shakes his head, but he's grinning. "More like brothers than friends, really. We can rile each other up pretty good sometimes, you know? But I'm always gonna be there for him, and him for me. No matter what." He sits down with his plate. "So, back to your 'surprise'. I don't mind you using the kitchen here, that's fine. You just need me to take Jensen somewhere and distract him till you're done?"

Jared nods. "That's the plan."

"When?"

"I was thinking Friday?" says Jared. "If that's okay with you."

 "You're in luck," replies Chris. "He has PT after work, so he won't be home until seven. What time do you get off work?"

"Four," Jared answers with a smile. "That's perfect. Can you get downstairs from in here?"

Chris points to a pocket door in the corner. "Right through there."

"Awesome." Jared pulls out his phone. "Can I have your number?"  Chris glares at him. "Just promise me this won't be like a bad sitcom, where you burn everything and trash the kitchen."

Jared laughs. "I'm a good cook. I've been living on my own for five years, so it was either learn to cook or starve."

"Good." Chris gives him the number and smacks his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure you've figured this out, but if you hurt him, I will cut off your dick and feed it to you. Got it?"

Jared nods solemnly. "Got it." He stands up and smiles. "I'm pretty much head over heels in love with him, so you don't have to worry."

Chris narrows his eyes. "That's _exactly_ why I have to worry."

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jared lights the last candle and stands back to survey his handiwork. The lights are turned low, the stereo is playing a jazz CD he borrowed from his boss, a red rose centerpiece sits in the center of the table surrounded by white candles, and two champagne flutes are standing empty beside each place setting. He's already plated the food; it's keeping warm in Jensen's oven, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice is sitting on ice on the counter.

All he needs now is Jensen to make it absolutely perfect.

His watch beeps to tell him that it's seven o'clock. He pours the sparkling grape juice into the waiting champagne flutes and grabs potholders from a low hook. His phone buzzes with the text he's been waiting for: _hes in the driveway._ He has Chris waiting outside with a blindfold and a red rose. He takes a deep breath and braces himself for what he hopes will be the best night of his life.

The door swings open. Jared pulls the plates out of the oven and sets them on the table as Chris pushes Jensen into the dining room. "Something smells good," says Jensen.

Jared nods at Chris to leave and grasps the arm of Jensen's chair with one hand and the knot of the blindfold with the other. He kisses Jensen and straightens up, pulling the blindfold off. "Surprise," he murmurs, then steps back to reveal the table.

Jensen's eyes widen as he takes it all in. "How did you--Jesus Christ, this is _amazing_," he breathes, moving closer to the table. "Did you do _all_ of this?"

 Jared beams. "I did. I've been cooking for years now, so I'm pretty decent at it."

 "What did you make?" Jensen asks, setting the rose down beside his plate.

"Balsamic chicken cutlets, wild mushroom couscous, and braised spinach," replies Jared. "Chris gave me the lowdown on your allergies and stuff, so this should all be safe."

"I can't believe you," says Jensen, eyes roaming the table. "This is really something, Jay. God, I--I don't even know what to say."

Jared sits in his own seat and lifts his glass. "This has been the best two months of my life," he says with a soft smile. "Here's to many, many more."

"Cheers," Jensen whispers, clinking his glass against Jared's.

 They mostly eat in silence except for scattered compliments and moans of pleasure from Jensen. The chicken is cooked perfectly and Jared can hardly tell the difference between the whole-grain couscous he used and the regular stuff he cooks at home.

Once Jared has cleared the table, Jensen twirls the blindfold around one finger and grins wickedly. "It's only fair that I return the favor," he purrs. He tugs Jared's arm. "Down, boy." Jared laughs and drops to his knees so Jensen can tie the blindfold over his eyes. "Grab onto my handles," he advises. Jared complies and allows Jensen to lead him into what he presumes is Jensen's bedroom. "Lay down flat on your back," Jensen orders, reaching around to guide Jared to the bed.

Jared climbs onto the bed and lies down, grinning in anticipation as Jensen moves around the room. He feels the bed dip and suddenly Jensen clasps something hard and cold around Jared's wrist. "Dude, _handcuffs_?" squawks Jared.

Jensen drags Jared's hand up to the bed frame and seizes his other hand. Next thing Jared knows, both his hands are cuffed to the headboard and Jensen's tongue is in his mouth. His abs contract sharply as Jensen slips a hand underneath his shirt. Jared has never done anything like this before but so far he's definitely enjoying it. Jensen draws back and kisses a trail over Jared's cheek and jaw, then breathes hot and heavy over Jared's ear. The sensation is strange but also _really fucking good_ and Jared's hips jerk up off the bed in response. Jensen licks the shell of Jared's ear and nips his earlobe as he starts unbuttoning Jared's shirt. Jared can't help moaning as Jensen nibbles his way down Jared's throat to the hollow of his neck.

When Jensen undoes the last button and lets Jared's shirt fall away, Jared feels a rush of cool air over his chest that goes straight to his dick, making it strain against its fabric-and-metal prison. He moans as Jensen slowly unfastens his pants and slides them off, freeing Jared's painfully hard cock. Jensen tongues his nipple and wraps one warm, solid hand around Jared's shaft. Jared arches his back, pressing his dick further into Jensen's strong grip. Jensen jacks his cock with firm, swift strokes; Jared feels the bed shift and assumes that Jensen is repositioning himself.

Jared starts so badly when Jensen presses a cool, slick finger into the cleft of his ass that the metal handcuffs dig painfully into his wrists. Jensen blows cold air across the head of Jared's cock and inserts another finger at the same time and Jared can't help crying out at the intense sensations warring for his attention. Jensen wraps his lips around Jared's dick and hums softly as he tongues the sensitive ridge. Jared doesn't realize he's holding his breath until his chest feels like it's about to burst. He sucks air in greedily and the resulting head rush makes the room tilt slightly. "You okay?" whispers Jensen.

"Fine," Jared gasps.

"Good." Jensen crooks his fingers in just the right way and Jared comes so hard he sees white sparks at the edge of his vision. Jensen releases his cock and pulls away, shifting on the bed. A couple seconds later Jensen unlocks the handcuffs and pulls off the blindfold.   Jared gazes up at Jensen's huge smile and brilliant green eyes shimmering with joy and what he hopes is the same thing he feels right now. "I love you," he blurts out, unable to contain it any longer.

Though it seems impossible, Jensen's smile grows even bigger. "I love you too," he murmurs, capturing Jared's lips for a gentle kiss.

Jared grins. His chest still feels like it's about to burst, but for a completely different reason. "I love you _more_."

Jensen raises an eyebrow, but he's still smiling brighter than the noonday sun. "I wouldn't bet money on that."


	8. What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen tries to cut and run. Jared doesn't let him.

A few weeks later, Jared lies in Jensen's bed, recovering his composure after another spectacular blowjob, when he decides that he can't keep quiet anymore. "What about you, Jen?" he asks quietly.

"Huh?" Jensen glances up at him, the dim light making his eyes sparkle like glass.

Jared pushes up on one elbow. "What I mean is...I want to return the favor. You're always giving and never receiving. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Jensen's eyes darken. "It's not that simple, Jared."

"I know that," says Jared. "But--"

"You don't know anything," counters Jensen. "You have no idea what it's like to have no control over your own body. To have it work against you at every possible opportunity."

"There are things out there that can help you," Jared replies. "We can experiment, see what works best for you."

"_We_? There's not a _we_ here. There's you with your working dick and me with my useless one." Jensen sits up. "What's wrong with what we have now? I mean, Jesus, most guys would kill to be in your place."

"It just feels...selfish." Jared plays with a loose thread on the sheet. "This isn't just about you getting me off--or, at least, it shouldn't be. It's about us _connecting_. I want you inside me, Jen. I want to feel you. You've never even taken your shirt off in front of me."

"God!" Jensen's voice rises. "I have a brain, a mouth, and two working hands. Isn't that enough? Why are you pushing this?"

 "Why are you shutting me out?" Jared retorts just as loudly.

Jensen ducks his head. "Get out," he mutters.

"Jen, _please_\--"

"Get out!" Jensen shouts, voice shaking. He sniffles and doesn't look up. "Just get out."

Jared gathers his clothes and dresses quickly. "All right, I'm going." He stops in the doorway and looks back. "I'll call you."

A sniffle and a choked sob are Jensen's only reply.

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jared calls Jensen three days in a row. Each time the call goes directly to voicemail. Finally, in desperation, he calls Chris. "I don't even know what I did, he just flipped out on me."

Chris sighs. "It's not about you. In fact, it has nothing to do with you. It's..." Chris pauses. "I don't think it's my place to tell you."

 "But he won't talk to me!" Jared gets up and starts pacing his living room. "I keep calling him and he won't pick up."

"Just...be patient," says Chris. "He hasn't had to deal with this shit in years. He just bottled it all up and refused to deal with it. I'm working on it, man, but you gotta give him time."

Jared takes a deep breath. "Fine." He stops by the window and flicks some dust off the sill. "Tell him he can call me whenever, even if it's like, three in the morning."

"Sure," says Chris. "Take care, kid."

The next few days are hell for Jared. He's so miserable at work that his coworkers insist on taking him out for a drink after their shift. He sticks to beer this time and one of the cashiers, Genevieve, ends up driving him home. She's a sweet girl and in another life he could see himself falling for her. She gives him a kiss on the cheek when she drops him off and for a brief moment he contemplates inviting her up to his apartment, but his rational mind wins out in the end.

Finally he gets a call from Chris. "Can you come over to the house tonight?"

"Yeah, of course," Jared answers immediately.

A hour later he's in Jensen's living room. Jensen's sitting next to Chris on the couch, so Jared has to sit in an empty chair across the room. Jensen won't meet Jared's eyes.

"So, here's how it's gonna be," says Chris. "Jensen's going to talk first, and Jared can ask questions when he's completely finished. Then Jared gets to talk and Jensen can reply at the end. We cool?" Jared nods. A second later, so does Jensen. Chris slaps Jensen lightly on the shoulder. "Go get 'im, tiger."

Jensen smiles weakly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," begins Jensen. "What I was upset about didn't really have anything to do with you, so I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He takes a deep breath. "See, a few years ago, I had this boyfriend, Brian. He was a really sweet guy and, at the time, he was pretty much the love of my life." He looks up then and almost makes eye contact, but not quite. "We were together more than a year before I tried to have sex with him. At that time I didn't really know that there were things the doctors could do--I was way too embarrassed to ask. So we'd try to have sex and I never could keep it up for him. He decided that meant that I didn't really love him."

Jared bites his lip to keep from telling Jensen exactly what that fucking bastard could do to himself. If he ever ran into this guy, he thinks there's a good possibility that he would kill him with his bare hands. What a colossal asshole.

Jensen takes another deep, shaky breath. "We broke up not long after that." His lips turn up in a shadow of a smile. "Well, actually, he dumped me and left."

Jared clenches a fist so hard his knuckles turn white. He can't remember ever being this angry before.

Jensen finally meets Jared's eyes. "When you brought those things up, I didn't really hear you--I kept hearing his words in my head. I shouldn't have freaked out on you, but..." He glances at Chris. "I'm just not really over it yet." He nods at Jared. "Your turn."

Jared takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart. "I don't blame you for freaking out, but I have to admit, it hurts to think that you could ever believe I would do _anything_ like that to you, ever. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I love you more than anything. I would never hold your physical issues against you, especially not in a situation like that. He was an ignorant, selfish bastard and you deserve better--a _lot_ better. And, not to be conceited, but that better person is me. Please, let me in next time. These last several days, not being able to see or talk to you--it was torture. You're the most important person in my world and not having you in my life made me feel like--like somebody cut me in half and took all the good parts away." He has to stop to catch his breath, but he goes on. "If we have problems, we can work them out _together_. You and me. And as far as sex goes, we'll do whatever you're comfortable with, but I'd really love it if you would at least try some of the things that are out there. If they don't work, fine, but you'll never know unless you try. I told you before, I love you for what you are inside, not outside. Outside's just the icing on the cake." He grins. "So, can we make a deal? You try one new thing, I promise not to have any hard feelings if it doesn't work. Sound all right?"

Jensen smiles. It's not his megawatt sun-rivaling special, but it's a good sign nonetheless. "Yeah, it does."

Jared stands up. "Can I...?" He gestures at Jensen.

 "I'd be pissed if you didn't," replies Jensen, his smile sliding into a smirk.

Jared turns to Chris. "You mind?"

"Not at all." Chris vacates the couch and grins. "I knew you two crazy kids'd work it out."

"Thanks, man." Jared slaps Chris's hand as he passes by. "Owe you one." Chris waves over his shoulder and closes the front door.

Jared pulls Jensen into his arms. "I missed you so much," he whispers, lips lightly brushing Jensen's. Jensen grasps the back of Jared's head and pulls him down for a bruising, hungry kiss. "Missed you more," he gasps when they break for air.

"Missed you infinity," murmurs Jared, going in for another kiss.


	9. Weekend Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen and Jared take a weekend trip to a luxury hotel. After an amazing night, morning brings a dangerous medical emergency.

"So, I've been thinking," says Jared.

"About what?"

"That maybe I should trade my truck in for something smaller," he replies, idly twirling strands of linguini with his fork. "You know, that way I could drive sometimes, and then if something happens and Chris isn't around, we wouldn't be totally screwed."

"Awww, you would do all that for little ol' me?" Jensen teases, batting his eyelashes like a saloon girl in a John Wayne movie. "Ain't you a sweetheart."

Jared grins and shakes his head. "I'm serious, Jen. I want to know what you think."

"Well, you made a good point," Jensen replies. "But I don't want you to do something you'll regret if we...you know."

"For one thing, I don't intend to let you get away," says Jared, tossing a packet of sugar at Jensen. "And for another, I've had that truck since I first got my license. It's time to put it out to pasture anyway. I don't mind getting a car instead of a new truck. It's not like I need 4-wheel drive to get around here."

Jensen chuckles. "Yeah, that's true. I just don't want to be your only reason for doing this."

"You're not my only reason," says Jared. "You're just the most important one."

Jensen smiles. Even in the dim light of the bar, Jared can see the adorable little crinkles at the corners of his eyes that are one of his favorite things about Jensen--one of about fifty. "Do I get to help you pick?"

"Of course." Jared finishes off his chicken parmesan and frowns at Jensen's nearly full plate. "You didn't eat much."

Jensen shrugs. "I wasn't really that hungry."

 "Is something wrong?" Jared asks immediately, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"I'm not really sure yet," answers Jensen. "I'll have to get back to you on that."

"I wish you would have said something," says Jared. "We didn't have to come here tonight."

Jensen snorts. "If I stayed home every time I felt a little off, I'd barely get out of the house." His expression turns serious. "You can't freak out every time I get a headache. You'll burn out pretty damn quick. I've been doing this for thirty years, Jay. I can take care of myself."

"But what about that time Chris and I had to take you to the hospital?" counters Jared. "You weren't taking care of yourself then."

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Touché." He leans forward and puts his elbows on the table. "I just don't want you spending every minute worrying that something bad's gonna happen to me, because it'll just tear you up inside and then you'll start to resent me and then--" He drops his gaze to the table. "Well, you know the rest," he finishes quietly.

"I only worry because I care about you," Jared replies. "More than I've ever cared about anyone, I think. I want you to be around for a good long time."

Jensen grins. "I plan to be. Look, the fact is that I get sick a lot--that's just part of the whole SB deal. If you need to worry, I'll let you know. Okay?"

Jared takes a deep breath, then nods. "Okay. I trust you."

"You ready to go, then?"

"Sure," says Jared.

When they get back to Jensen's house, Jensen makes Jared sit down on the couch with his eyes closed. Jared laughs. "Remember to lock the door!" he calls, not sure where Jensen went. He faintly hears Jensen laugh as well. A minute passes before he hears Jensen's wheels rolling on the floor in his direction.

"So," says Jensen, obviously right in front of him. "One of my coworkers had this great romantic getaway planned for this weekend, and then her husband's father ruined their plans by passing away last night. So, since the package is non-refundable, she offered to let us have it." Jensen takes Jared's hand and folds his fingers around what feels like a glossy brochure. "Open your eyes."

Jared does as he's told and looks down at the pamphlet in his hand. "Rosewood Mansion? Holy _shit_, Jensen! This is--" He looks up at Jensen, who's beaming.

 "Surprise," murmurs Jensen.

Jared holds out the brochure. "We can't accept this. They spent a fortune on whatever kind of package they got. You can't just--I mean--"

"I'm reimbursing her the price of the room," says Jensen, cutting off Jared's protest. "And before you object, I can easily afford it. I didn't have a social life between college and meeting you--you'd be surprised at how much money you save that way." Jensen cups Jared's cheek. "You're the first person I've ever wanted to share something like this with." He pulls Jared in for a kiss. "Let me show you how much I love you," he murmurs, his face mere millimeters from Jared's own, his hot breath tingling on Jared's sensitized lips.

"Okay," Jared breathes. "Whatever you want, Jen. I'm yours."

He feels Jensen smile as he draws him into another tender kiss. "Damn right you are."

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jared pulls the rented BMW convertible into Jensen's driveway and can't help grinning so wide his cheeks sting. He can't wait for Jensen to see his own surprise. This is definitely going to be the best weekend ever. He taps the horn twice and climbs out of the ergonomically perfect driver's seat. He's wearing a lavender shirt, a purple, black, and silver striped tie, and a three-piece suit without the jacket. He can't wait to see the look on Jensen's face when he sees both Jared and the car.

Jensen locks the front door and spins around to descend the ramp. Jared sees his jaw literally drop as he coasts down to a stop in front of Jared. Jared sits his suitcase aside and leans down to his ear. "Surprise," he whispers.

"God, you look fucking amazing," murmurs Jensen before Jared kisses the breath out of him. "Please tell me you borrowed the car."

"I did," replies Jared, fudging the truth a little. "It's not exactly in a mail guy's price range." He chuckles. "I don't love you _that_ much."

Jensen pouts. "See if I put out tonight." He can't keep up the show for long, though, and bursts into his million-watt smile. "Let's do this thing. I want to hear this baby purr."

Jared helps Jensen into the passenger seat and stows his folded wheelchair in the backseat and his suitcase in the small trunk. It's a gorgeous fall day, 70 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Jared presses the ignition button and the Beamer roars to life. Jensen pets the dashboard reverently. "I can't tell which of you is prettier," he teases.

"I'm prettier under the hood," remarks Jared with a coy smirk to Jensen.

"Okay, you win." Jensen runs a hand down Jared's arm. "As much as I love you in this suit, I'll love you even more out of it." He slides his hand down to Jared's groin.

"If I crash this car, I am _dead_," says Jared. "Besides, we're in a convertible with the top down. I'm pretty sure that would be at least a misdemeanor."

"Aw, you're no fun." Jensen slaps Jared's shoulder lightly. "Okay, I guess I can wait another half hour."

The hotel is even more beautiful than the brochures can portray. They're shown to their suite and the bellhop shows Jensen the modifications made to the main bathroom at his coworker's request. Jared puts their suitcases in the bedroom and walks around the parlor, looking at the etched-glass mirror, the prints on the walls, and the flowers on the tables. He steps onto the porch outside and looks down at the immaculately landscaped pool terrace. He never in a million years thought he'd get to see inside this place. He pinches himself just to make sure this isn't all an incredibly lucid dream.

They go to dinner in the five-star restaurant. It takes a little while to find something Jensen can eat, but Jared doesn't mind. The food is amazing, as Jared knew it would be, and he has a couple of glasses of wine which is also amazing. They walk around outside for a bit before heading back upstairs to their suite.

While Jensen gets ready in the bathroom, Jared makes his own preparations in the bedroom. He takes the comforter and blanket off the bed and covers the crisp white sheets with an older one to keep the bed clean. He strews red rose petals over the pillows, then sets up and lights the candles he brought. Lastly, he pulls the bedside table right up to the edge of the mattress and sets out his special supplies for tonight: a can of vanilla cake frosting, a bottle of chocolate sauce, a bag of candy-coated mini chocolate chips, a spatula, and vanilla-scented lube. He grins as he strips out of the suit and carefully hangs everything up in the closet. He turns the lights down low and sits on the end of the bed to wait for Jensen.

Jensen emerges a couple minutes later, also unclothed but with a towel draped over his lower half. Jared smiles as Jensen wheels up to the bed. "I've got another surprise," he announces.

Jensen beams. "So do I." He whips off the towel to reveal what looks to be a pretty solid hard-on. "Here goes nothin'," he says casually, but his face reveals his excitement.

"That's wonderful," replies Jared, matching Jensen's megawatt smile with one of his own. "Because I decided to take some initiative tonight." He steps aside and points at the table.  

Jensen rolls closer and examines the food. "Didn't know you had a sweet tooth," he remarks with a wicked smirk.

"I was planning on sharing," says Jared with a smirk of his own. "And I mean sharing _everything_."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" purrs Jensen.

Jared crouches down and nudges Jensen's shoulder. "Need a lift?"

"Don't mind if I do." Jensen puts his arm around Jared's neck and allows Jared to scoop him up from the chair. Jared gently sets him down in the middle of the king-size bed.

Jared picks up the spatula and opens the can of frosting, then hands both to Jensen. "I'm all yours, baby."

Jensen dips a finger into the can and tastes it. "Mmmm, very sweet." He dips again and brushes it over Jared's lips. "Just like you," he murmurs, and moves in for the kiss. Jared tastes the sugary treat himself as Jensen's tongue plunges into his mouth.

Jensen draws back and scoops out a generous helping, then spreads it across Jared's broad chest. Then he picks up the syrup and drizzles it over the vanilla. "You look good enough to eat." He grins wickedly. "In more ways than one." He licks the frosting off of Jared's skin, pausing every now and then to allow Jared to taste it as well. He sucks Jared's nipples until they stand straight and then skims his teeth over the sensitive buds. Jared is so hard it's almost painful. Jensen spreads more frosting down Jared's abs to his pelvic bone and leisurely laves it up until Jared can scarcely breathe with the anticipation.

"You like that, don't you?" murmurs Jensen. "God, you're so fucking _hard_." He scoops up a handful of frosting and rubs it all over Jared's dick, then drizzles chocolate over the shaft. "What do you want me to do? Beg for it, Jay. Beg me to suck that big, beautiful cock of yours."

"Please," Jared breathes. "Want it so bad. Want your lips, your tongue. Want _you_."

Jensen licks a delicate stripe up the shaft as though it's a lollipop, then wraps his lips around the crown and flicks his tongue over the slit. Jared's hips buck and he bites his lip to keep from shouting. "Taste so good," whispers Jensen. He laves the head clean and then kisses Jared, allowing him to taste the salty-sweet tang of vanilla and precome. "Is that good?"

"Oh, God yes," gasps Jared. "Want to taste you now."

Jensen grins. "Well, you've been a good boy, you should get a reward," he replies, voice low and husky with desire. He pulls back and hands Jared the spatula, then shifts into a prone position.

 Jared slathers frosting on Jensen's belly and then dribbles syrup on top. He reaches over Jensen and grabs a handful of chips, then sprinkles those across the tableau. Jensen's skin is flushed and heated with exertion to the point that the frosting is actually melting slightly. Jared figures he better hurry up, then. He licks the curves and valleys of Jensen's abdominal muscles and down to the creases of his hips, then offers Jensen his lips for tasting. Jensen's dick presses firmly against Jared's navel, no sign of imminent failure.

"I love how you taste," Jared murmurs. He draws back and uses the spatula to spread frosting on Jensen's cock, relishing the gasps and moans Jensen lets out. "You feel that? Does it feel good, Jen? Do I make you feel good?"

"_Fuck_ yeah," answers Jensen. "It feels amazing. I've never felt this good in my whole life."

Jared smiles and licks the ridge of the crown with the tip of his tongue. Jensen honest-to-God _growls_ and clenches his fingers in Jared's hair. "Oh, fuck, do that again."

"I can do better than that," Jared replies, breathing hot and heavy over the slit. He sees Jensen fist his other hand in the sheet and takes the whole crown into his mouth. He hums loudly, lips wrapped tight around the shaft, and Jensen emits the most obscene moan Jared has ever heard. He takes more of Jensen's length and sucks as hard as he can. He loves the sounds Jensen is making.

"Okay, ready for the main event?" asks Jared when he comes up for air. "I've never tried to...uh...ride anyone before, so if it doesn't feel right, just tell me to stop."

"I trust you completely," says Jensen with an eager smile.

Jared uncaps the lube and hands it to Jensen. "This part you know."

Jensen's smile turns predatory. "Do I ever." He squeezes a dollop onto his fingers and works one into Jared's hole. Jared relaxes and lets Jensen in. Jensen stretches him slow and gentle, with the care of a seasoned lover.

Finally, Jensen slicks up his dick and Jared gets up on his knees. "Here goes nothin'," he whispers, echoing Jensen's words from earlier. He straddles Jensen's hips and slowly eases himself down onto Jensen's cock. Jensen isn't huge, but he's big enough, and Jared feels the pull almost immediately. He adjusts his position slightly and takes more of Jensen's length.

"Holy fuck that's good," Jensen gasps. "That's fucking _amazing_."

Jared smiles and presses his lips to Jensen's. "I was hoping you'd say that." He plants his hands firmly on either side of Jensen and takes Jensen all the way in. It takes some adjustment, but Jared maneuvers Jensen's head into the right spot and nearly loses his balance when his knees weaken in response to the rush of sensation. Jensen contracts his abs and manages enough of a thrust that Jared doesn't have to do all the work. Jared loses himself in the feel of Jensen and him being in perfect sync and soon he comes so hard it takes his breath away. Beneath him, Jensen shivers and gasps and Jared feels him go soft.

He gently separates from Jensen and lies down beside him. "You are everything I've ever wanted and then some," he murmurs. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Jensen whispers back, nestling his head into Jared's shoulder. "You're my dream come true."

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jared wakes up to Jensen insistently shaking his shoulder. "Trashcan," Jensen hisses. It takes Jared's fuzzy brain a few seconds to figure out that Jensen wants him to bring a trashcan over. He dashes across the room to get it and shoves it into Jensen's hands just in time for him to throw up in it. Jared rubs between his shoulder blades as Jensen heaves and chokes and coughs.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly when Jensen finally collapses back on the bed.

"Migraine," he replies in a strained voice. "Get my bag out of the bathroom and bring a glass of water."

Jared quickly fetches the items. Jensen takes a couple of pills and lies back with one arm over his eyes. "Just lemme try to sleep it off."

"Of course," Jared whispers. It's still fairly dark outside, so it must be pretty early in the morning. He crawls back into bed but keeps his distance from Jensen.

The next time he wakes up, it's Jensen shaking him again. Jared bolts upright. "What is it?"

"Need hospital," he whispers, wincing at even that tiny bit of sound. "Shunt malfunction."

"What?"

"'s on the card." Jensen stiffly pushes himself upright. "Tells you what to do."

Jared runs across the room to his suitcase and retrieves the card. He finds the words that Jensen said and reads what's underneath. He has to call a neurosurgeon at the hospital and take him in immediately. Jared grabs his cell phone from the dresser and does what the directions say, then dresses as fast as he can. He ends up dressing Jensen as well, wincing every time Jensen moans or gasps in pain. Jensen asks for the black sweater he wore the day before and presses it against his face to block the light.

Jared gathers their things together quickly and calls the front desk to bring the car around. They're on their way to the hospital in less than 15 minutes, but Jared beats himself up anyway. The card indicated that a shunt malfunction is a serious medical emergency requiring immediate surgical intervention. All Jared knows is that Jensen's in terrible pain and he's his only hope.  
   
Jared presses the pedal to the floor.


	10. The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While waiting for Jensen to come out of surgery, Jared learns why Chris is such a good friend.

Jared sips at a cup of surprisingly decent coffee and paces the small waiting room for the seventh time. He barely had time to say goodbye to Jensen before he was whisked off to pre-op in a whirlwind of strange words and numbers that Jared had no hope of understanding. He called Chris right after that; he should be here any minute.

Sure enough, Chris walks through the door, a grave frown creasing his rugged features, making him look much older than his thirty-something years.

"Was he conscious when you brought him in?" Chris wastes no time on formalities.

 "Barely," Jared admits. "I'm so sorry, man, if I'd have known--shit, he was fine when we went to bed, I had no idea--"

Chris holds up a hand. "I'm not blaming you, Jared. Shunt malfunctions aren't unusual in someone his age. The mechanism only lasts so long. Last time he had one was twelve years ago; that's a little fast, but not unheard of." He exhales sharply. "Sometimes they can be caught early if the damage to the shunt is minimal, but sometimes it just plain breaks down and there's nothing we can do except get him into the hands of a good surgeon."

 "What is a shunt, anyway?" asks Jared.

"It's a tube that drains cerebrospinal fluid--CSF--off of his brain. There's a valve that controls the flow of CSF--that's usually what breaks, but it's not unheard of for the tube to get blocked or compressed by the vessels surrounding it." Chris takes a seat in one of the chairs. "Don't worry, the neuro department here is really good. They've been working with him since he turned eighteen." Chris's face doesn't match his words--there's a haunted look in his eyes that speaks to something he's leaving out.

"So this has happened before?"

Chris swallows hard and nods. "We were in college at the time. We were sharing a suite. He kept getting these bad headaches. I told him to get checked out, but the campus health center told him it was just stress. But it got to the point that nothing they gave him, even Percocet, would stop the pain. So I dragged his ass to the hospital and they figured out that the actual cause was the tube being partially blocked." Chris looks down and clasps his hands in his lap. "If I'd just taken ten minutes to go to the campus library and look on the Internet, he wouldn't have suffered so long. God, I fucking hated myself after that. So I went and found out everything I could from his doctors so I'd be prepared for anything."

"But why is it your responsibility?" asks Jared, taking care to make the question sound the way he means it: curious, rather than rude.

"When we first were in the hospital together, I was kind of a dick to him. I'd seen him around school just like everybody else. All of his friends were girls--none of the guys would talk to him. He wasn't masculine enough or some shit like that. But the second day we were there, some nurse ignored the sign about his latex allergy and touched him with a latex glove. We were already in the fucking hospital and he still nearly died from his throat closing up. He wasn't even mad about it! His parents went crazy but he didn't even want the nurse to get fired. That's when I realized that someone needed to look out for that kid." He shakes his head and chuckles. "So I decided that person was me. We've been best friends ever since."

"Not many people would have done that," Jared points out.

Chris shrugs. "My mama raised me right. What can I say?"

"Did you ever..." Jared chooses his words carefully. "Think about taking it to the next level?"

"You mean sleeping with him? No, I never thought about him that way. He's like the kid brother I never had, and I ain't touching that."

Jared nods. "Yeah, I can understand that." He sighs. "How long is this gonna take?"

 "It depends on what they have to do to the shunt," Chris replies. "Let's just say you'll be counting time in hours, not minutes."

Jared finishes his coffee. "How do you stay so calm about everything? I know you're worried, but you never show it."

Chris sits up. "Because I've seen him fight. He's the strongest damn person I ever met. He wasn't always this well-adjusted--he was pretty careless in college and it bit him in the ass a couple times, but he grew up and got over it. There's a lot stacked against him. People with SB are really prone to infections and viruses; their bodies just can't spare the resources to fight them off, and working in a hospital doesn't help. He works way too hard and, until you came along, he hardly ever got out." Chris gives Jared a small smile. "You're the best thing that could've happened to him, so please don't fuck it up."

"You know I won't," Jared replies earnestly.

"Good." Chris pulls a deck of cards out of his shirt pocket. "Might as well kill some time."

Chris is right, it's hours later that the nurse comes to inform them that Jensen has been moved to recovery. One of them is allowed in for a few minutes, but that's all. Chris nudges Jared. "Go see your boy."

Jared smiles. "Thanks." He follows the nurse down the hall to the recovery room.

Jensen is propped up on a gurney and covered in wires and tubes and needles. There's a thick bandage partially covering his right ear and a little bit of his hair has been shaved off. When he sees Jared, his tired eyes light up and he smiles weakly. "Hey," he whispers.

Jared stands next to the bed rail. "Hey yourself." He carefully covers Jensen's fingers with his own. "Scared the hell outta me this morning."

"Sorry." He raises an eyebrow and his lips turn up in a half-hearted smirk. "I'll make it up to you."

"Just get better, okay?" Jared smiles through the tears that are threatening to spill onto his cheeks. "That's all I want, baby."

"I can do that," Jensen replies. "Quit cryin', Princess."

Jared laughs, but in deference to his surroundings he keeps it voiceless. "That must make you my knight in shining armor," he points out.

"Can you settle for a knight in shining bandages?"

Jared grins. "I think so."


	11. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen finds out what it's like to worry about someone you love being sick.

Jared's Monday shift seems to last about three years. Even though he spent most of last night at the hospital with Jensen, he's still desperate to get back there. Jensen seems to be recovering steadily, but Jared can't help worrying anyway, especially after some of the things Chris told him. He hates that there's nothing he can really do for Jensen if something happens. Every time he looks at Jensen he remembers the feel of Jensen's limp body in his arms, his face twisted into a horrible mask of pain. He's not sure he could stand it if something similar happened in the future.

However, worrying so much is exhausting. He's barely eaten since Friday night and he's pretty sure that living on coffee and Tic-Tacs is not a very good idea. He hasn't slept a whole lot either; if he's not at work, he's over at the hospital, which doesn't have terribly strict visiting hours for adult patients. Last night he fell asleep in the chair and the nurse kicked him out around 2 in the morning.

When he gets to the hospital, he expects to see Jensen and Chris and maybe a nurse in Jensen's room, so when he sees a middle-aged couple and a cute college-age girl in there instead, he assumes that Jensen must have been transferred to another room and steps back into the hall. Then he hears Chris's voice boom out. "Jared, get your ass back in here!"

Jared walks through the door again and the small crowd parts to reveal Jensen. "Hey man, I tried to call you but your phone was off," says Jensen.

"Yeah, it died while I was work," Jared replies lamely. "Um, if this isn't a good time--"

"Jay, relax. I didn't really intend for you to meet my parents like this, but what can you do?" He grins. "Jared, this is my mom and dad and my little sister Mackenzie." He motions for Jared to come forward. "Guys, this is my boyfriend Jared."

Mrs. Ackles pulls Jared into a hug. "Jensen's told us all about you. I've been telling him to bring you by for weeks, but he's always too busy to see his old folks."

"Hey, would _you_ want to share him?" replies Jensen with a sideways grin.

Mr. Ackles gets up from the uncomfortable plastic chair. "Have a seat, son. You look like you're about to collapse."

It takes Jared a minute to register that Mr. Ackles is talking to _him._ "Oh, uh, thanks," he mumbles, cheeks burning with embarrassment at his complete lack of social skills. In his defense, he's not exactly at his best after three hours of sleep and an eight-hour shift. He drops into the chair and fights off a yawn.

Jensen frowns. "Yeah, you look like crap. How long were you here last night? I never saw you leave."

"I don't really know," Jared lies. "One of the nurses kicked me out sometime after midnight."

"And you worked today," concludes Jensen. "You trying to end up in here with me?"

"No! I, uh..." Jared realizes that everyone is staring at him and gives Jensen the biggest smile he can muster. "How are _you_ feeling?"

Jensen nods. "Not too bad. I had a CT scan earlier, they said the new valve seems to be working well."

"That's good."

There's a small knock at the door. Jared looks up to see a nurse in the doorway. "Clear a path, please," she says, not unkindly. Jared jumps up from the chair and the room spins sickeningly around him. He feels a cold hand on his arm, hears a muddle of voices, and then everything goes black.

He wakes up alone in an unfamiliar room. He's lying on an exam bed, IV line in one arm and a green hospital bracelet on the other. An older nurse walks in with a bright smile on her face. "Well, look who's awake!"

"What happened?" he croaks, attempting to sit up.

 The nurse shakes her head and gently pushes him back down on the bed. "Just a minute there. I know you want to see your friend, but I need to check a few things before I can let you go back upstairs." She retrieves a blood pressure cuff from behind the bed and wraps it around his arm. "You must work out a lot," she remarks.

 "I move boxes for a living," he replies, his voice slowly returning to normal.

She grins. "That would do it." She lets the air out of the cuff and nods in satisfaction. "112 over 64, that's more like it." She takes his pulse and seems pleased with that result as well. She checks the IV line and consults the clipboard at the end of the bed, then gives him a toothy smile. "Okay, now you can sit up. Take it slow."

He does as he's told, crinkling the paper on the bed as he eases himself up to a vertical position. "Any dizziness or nausea?" He shakes his head no and winces when his head starts pounding from the movement. "Headache?" she asks, lowering her voice slightly.

 "Yeah," he murmurs.

She nods sympathetically. "That's common with dehydration. I can get you some Tylenol, and you'll let me know if that's not enough." She pats his knee. "I'll be right back."

She returns a few minutes later with a small paper cup and a wheelchair. She pours a cup of water from the faucet and hands it to him along with the pills, which he downs eagerly. He gestures at the wheelchair. "That for me?"

She nods, but her expression is stern. "I can put you in the bed in your friend's room, but you have to promise to stay in it until one of us tells you otherwise. Can I count on you to behave?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She laughs. "Aren't you a doll? Okay, you can get down, but be careful with the IV."

When they get back to Jensen's floor, Jared sees Chris standing outside Jensen's door. He crosses his arms and glares down at Jared. "You are an _idiot_, you know that?"

"Is Jensen okay?" Jared replies, ignoring Chris's ire.

"Aside from being worried sick about you, he's fine," answers Chris. He steps aside to let the nurse wheel Jared into the room.

"I know you missed me, but this is ridiculous," says Jensen as Jared gets settled in the other bed. "What, visiting hours weren't enough for you?" His tone is light, but Jared can hear the concern beneath the words.

Jared shrugs. "Just didn't get enough sleep, I guess."

"Or food, or water," adds the nurse. "You fainted because your blood sugar bottomed out, but you were pretty dehydrated as well. I understand that you were worrying about this one--" she gestures at Jensen, "--but you can't let that stop you from performing basic life-sustaining functions. Or there will be consequences."

"Yeah," says Chris. "I'll kick your ass, for one thing."

"So will I," adds Jensen. "I'm supposed to be the sickly one. No horning in on my territory."

He's smirking like it's a joke, but Jared isn't sure that it is. Still, he decides to go with it, just for the sake of lightening up the room. "Sir, yes sir," he replies with a mock salute. Jensen grins, genuinely this time, and even Chris cracks a smile.

"Now, you boys get some rest," says the nurse. As if on cue, Jared lets out a jaw-cracking yawn.

"We should be going," says Mrs. Ackles. "It was nice meeting you, Jared. Hopefully we'll get to see you under better circumstances next time." She leans over and hugs him again.

"Thanks," Jared murmurs. Mr. Ackles offers a hand and Jared shakes it with as much force as he can muster, which isn't very impressive. Mackenzie kisses her brother, waves at Jared, and walks out with her parents.

"Sorry about that," says Jared. "I didn't mean to screw up your family time."

Jensen smiles softly. "You didn't. They were on their way out when you showed up. They only stayed to make sure you were all right."

"And to make him stay put and not storm the ER looking for you," Chris points out.

Jensen shakes his head. "You scared the shit out of me, Jay. Man, it kind of sucks to be you, doesn't it?"

"I only worry because I love you, you know that," replies Jared. "I want you to be around for a good long time."

Jensen grins. "I don't plan to let you down." He looks pointedly at Chris and raises an eyebrow. "Dude, these beds have wheels. How about you help a couple of sick guys out?"

Chris rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You really have a one-track mind, don't you?"

"Yup," Jensen answers proudly. "You're just jealous 'cause my boyfriend's prettier than yours."

Chris messes around with Jared's bed until he finds the brake release, then wrestles it into place next to Jensen's. Jensen puts the rail between them down and scoots toward the middle. "C'mere, you." Jared moves over and gratefully accepts Jensen's invitation to cuddle, fitting his head into the curve of Jensen's shoulder as Jensen stretches an arm around Jared. Jensen presses a light kiss to Jared's forehead. "Just sleep. I'll be here."  
   
"Mmkay," Jared murmurs. Jensen pulls the blankets over them both and Jared snuggles close and sighs in contentment.


	12. Beauty in the Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared is freaked, Jensen is honest, and everything turns out all right in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from "Let Go" by Frou Frou

Jared wakes up to bright light and something squeezing the hell out of his arm. He blinks rapidly, trying to get his bearings, when he finally remembers that he’s in the hospital. His bed is back where it belongs and a nurse is pulling the IV line out of his arm. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she says cheerfully, pressing gauze against the small puncture. “Hold this and sit up for me.”

He does as he’s told and turns to look at Jensen, who’s still fast asleep. The nurse bustles around his bed, checking his temperature and blood pressure and pulse and writing everything on the omnipresent clipboard. “The doctor will be up shortly to send you on your way,” she informs him with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, Jared signs his discharge papers and the doctor hands him an excuse note for the shift he’s going to miss today. He gets a stern lecture about taking care of himself and some pamphlets on nutrition before the doctor pronounces him a free man. 

Jared changes quietly, not wanting to disturb Jensen. He’s pondering whether to leave a note or just text Jensen later when a paper cup hits the back of his neck. He whirls around to find Jensen sitting up. “Trying to sneak out?”

“No!” Jared takes a step forward. “I thought you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Not even to say goodbye?” 

“You need your rest,” argues Jared. 

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t start that crap.”

“Well, excuse me for caring,” replies Jared, but his voice cracks in the middle, giving away the fear he was trying to cover up with sarcasm. These last few days have been hell on him, both emotionally and physically, and he’s just about at the end of his rope. 

Jensen’s face softens. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Is this how it’s always gonna be?” Jared feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he has a feeling that the breakdown he’s been fighting off since Sunday morning has arrived. “Rushing you to the hospital every couple months, praying you don’t die? Is that all your life is? How much longer can you even expect to live?”

“Hey, c’mere.” Jared tentatively steps closer to Jensen’s bed. Jensen reaches out, grabs his wrist, and pulls him into a hug. After a long moment, Jensen chuckles softly and pushes him away. “You’re getting my shirt all wet, you big girl.” 

“Sorry,” Jared chokes out, sitting down on the edge of Jensen’s bed.

Jensen shakes his head, still smiling. “Don’t worry, we’ll never speak of this again.” He sits up straighter and his expression turns serious. “It’s really not as bad as you’re thinking. Fifty years ago, I probably wouldn’t have lived to see 30. Nowadays, there are people with SB who are living well into their 70s. SB used to be considered a childhood disease, but now, so many of us live to be adults that they’ve reclassified it in the medical books.” Jensen squeezes Jared’s hand. “And I’m actually considered exceptionally healthy for someone with my type of SB, believe it or not.”

Jared’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” says Jensen. “I eat right, I exercise, I take my meds on schedule...well, most of the time,” he amends. “I do everything I can to keep myself healthy, but some things are just out of my control.” His eyes darken. “And if you can’t handle that, there’s the door. Feel free to use it.”

“I’m not gonna cut and run, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Jared tells him, trying to match Jensen’s cold glare with one of his own but failing. “But all of this...” he gestures around the room, “...it just scares the hell outta me. And I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“What do you expect me to do, Jared?” Jensen snaps. “I’m sorry I can’t just wake up in the morning and make my body work the way it’s supposed to. You think I like being sick all the time? I didn’t choose to have all these problems, that’s just the way things worked out. If you can’t sack up and deal with it, then fuck off.” Jensen’s green eyes blaze with anger as he glowers at Jared.

Jared jumps up. “I’m sick of you always trying to push me away whenever things start to get tough. It’s not fair that you keep punishing me for things I didn’t even do! I’m not like your ex-boyfriend, I’m not just going to up and leave you, and maybe you’re the one who needs to sack up and deal with things.” 

Jensen swallows hard and stares at Jared in stunned silence. Jared decides to leave and let Jensen think about things for awhile and is almost out the door when Jensen speaks up. “You’re right.”

When Jared turns around, Jensen refuses to meet his eyes. He plucks at the cotton blanket idly and keeps his gaze locked on the floor. “You’re absolutely right. I need to stop taking my own stupid issues out on you. It isn’t fair, and I’m sorry.”

Jared sits back down on Jensen’s bed and lifts Jensen’s chin to force him into eye contact. “Listen to me: I love you more than anything. I love you so much it scares me sometimes. God, Jen, I don’t think I could stop loving you even if I wanted to.”

Jensen’s eyes mist over. “You mean that,” he murmurs, and it’s clearly not a question.

“Of course I mean it,” Jared replies softly. He slides his hand around to the back of Jensen’s neck and draws him into a kiss. Jensen’s mouth is dry and his lips are slightly chapped from the recycled air, but Jared doesn’t care in the least. Jensen kisses back tentatively at first, but then he leans into Jared and deepens the kiss until they hear an insistent hm-hem from the doorway.  
   
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” says a fairly youthful doctor wearing the most hideous plaid pants Jared has ever seen. 

Jensen heaves a theatrical sigh. “Your timing really does kinda suck.”

“Sorry, kiddo, them’s the breaks,” the doctor replies with a grin. “Don’t worry, you and Romeo can have plenty of alone time after your exam.”

“Dude, I am totally Romeo,” protests Jensen as the doctor shines a light in his eyes. 

“Nah, you’re too pretty to be Romeo.” The doctor looks in Jensen’s ears, then puts the scope away and glances back at Jared. “You don’t want to watch this part.”

“Okay.” Jared turns his back on the two of them. Whatever the doctor does takes only a few seconds, after which he gives Jared the all-clear signal. 

 The doctor smiles at Jared. “He’s all yours.” He writes some notes on the clipboard at the end of the bed and nods at Jensen. “Looking good, Jensen. We might even be able to get you out of here soon.”

  “How soon is ‘soon’?”

“How does Thursday sound?”

Jensen grins. “Sounds awesome.”

“Is your manservant still in the picture?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jensen answers. “Like Chris’ll ever leave. I swear, he’d Lo-Jack my chair if he could.”

“Well, have him stop by tomorrow afternoon and I’ll give him the lowdown.” The doctor smiles. “See you later.”

Once he’s gone, Jensen pats the bed next to him. “Now, where were we?”

Jared sits down beside him and presses a light kiss to Jensen’s forehead. “I think we were at the ‘I love you more than anything‘ part.”

Jensen captures Jared’s lips in a sweet but suggestive kiss. “Oh yeah, that.”


	13. The Suite Life of Jensen and Jared

When Jared's phone wakes him up at 7:13 am on his day off, he groans and briefly considers throwing it at the wall. His eyes are too blurry to make out the name on the caller ID, but it doesn't matter; he's 99.9% sure it's Jim needing him to come in today. “Yeah?” he barks, not bothering with courtesy.

“Jared? Did I wake you up?”

It's Jensen. Jared bolts upright, heart in his throat. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Better than okay,” answers Jensen. “They're letting me out at nine, but Chris got called to a meeting this morning so I need someone else to pick me up. You're off today, right?”

“Yeah, but--”

“Chris already said you could borrow his car. The spare key's in his mailbox.”

Jared yawns and tries rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Okay, yeah, I can do that. You said nine?”

He can hear the smile in Jensen's voice. “Yeah, nine. Go back to sleep. I'll call at 8:30 and wake you up.”

“You don't have to do that,” says Jared.

“Well, I want to,” Jensen replies. “Now hang up before I change my mind.”

Jared grins. “See you later.”

“Can't wait.” The line clicks off.

Jared sets the phone on the bedside table and rolls over; next thing he knows, his phone rings. “You said 8:30,” he grumbles. 

“It is 8:30,” Jensen informs him. “Up and at 'em, lazybones.”

“I hate you,” Jared mutters, but there's no real heat behind it. He stumbles out of bed and heads for his closet.

“I'll make it worth your while,” Jensen singsongs.

“You better,” says Jared, not unkindly. “Alright, I'm getting dressed. Where will I find you?”

“I'll meet you at the main entrance. You can just pull right up to the doors.”

“Gotcha.” Jared throws a plaid shirt on his bed and digs for clean jeans in his dresser. “I gotta go. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“I'll be waiting.” 

It's 8:58 when Jared pulls into the loading zone in front of the hospital's main entrance. Jensen wheels out through the automatic doors, bright-eyed and beaming. His overnight bag sits on his lap and a frozen coffee drink is balanced atop it. “Is that for me?” Jared asks, pointing to the cup.

“Told you I'd make it worth your while,” says Jensen.

“I don't know which of you I'm happier to see,” teases Jared, taking the cup in one hand and curling the other around Jensen's neck as he kisses him. He picks up Jensen's bag and sticks it in the backseat, then takes a sip of his drink as he opens the front door for Jensen and waits for him to get in.

As soon as the hospital disappears from view, Jensen smiles and sinks back against the seat. “I'm free,” he sighs happily. “God, I can't wait to get in the shower.” He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “And if you play your cards right, I just might invite you along.”

“Are you sure you should, uh...exert yourself like that?” 

Jensen tips his head back and laughs. “Blowing you is not gonna make my head explode. You're good, but you ain't that good.”

The remark is so very Jensen that Jared can't help but laugh too. “See if I put out now,” he retorts, feigning offense.

Jensen grins and pats Jared's cheek. “Aw, look at you trying to play hard to get. That's so cute.”

“Are you implying that I'm a slut?” Jared pointedly raises an eyebrow.

“I got in your pants on the second date,” Jensen points out. 

“Dude, do you have any idea how long it had been since I last got laid?” counters Jared. “Years. Plural.”

“Oh, cry me a river,” replies Jensen lightly. “You were still in high school when I last got laid by someone other than you.”

“Damn,” murmurs Jared. “Yeah, you win. Or lose, actually, I guess.” He smirks at Jensen, who smacks his arm.

They round the corner and Jared pulls the car into the driveway. Jensen's eyes light up. “Home sweet home,” says Jensen, beaming. He shoves open his door before the car even comes to a complete stop. 

Jared quickly fetches his chair and pushes him up to the door. Once he unlocks the door, Jensen makes a beeline for his bedroom, leaving Jared to follow in his wake. By the time Jared enters Jensen's room, Jensen already has his shirt off and is half out of his pants.

“Man, you don't waste any time,” remarks Jared.

“Sponge baths aren't all they're cracked up to be,” responds Jensen. “I've been dreaming of this moment for six days.” He shucks off his slippers and flannel pants. “Now get your sweet little ass moving!” he calls over his shoulder as he rolls into the bathroom. 

Jared quickly undresses and walks into Jensen's bathroom. He's never seen it before, and he can't believe how huge it is. The shower takes up the entire rear wall, and the sink and toilet are in opposite corners about three chair lengths apart. Between the sink and the shower is a low console-type cabinet from which Jensen retrieves two striped towels. He puts them on a chrome rack, which he then plugs into the wall. “Is that a towel warmer?” asks Jared.

“It is,” answers Jensen. “Don't think I need to turn it up too high, though.” He winks at Jared and rolls into the shower. 

Jared waits for him to adjust the water temperature and transfer to the bench seat before joining him. He starts a little at the heat of the spray. “Man, you do like it hot.”

Jensen smirks. “Damn straight.” He pulls Jared down and captures his lips in a hungry kiss. 

Jared drops to his knees on the cold tile and runs a hand up the ladder of Jensen's slick abs. Jensen threads his fingers in Jared's damp hair and plunges his tongue into Jared's mouth, tangling it with Jared's own. Jared takes a nipple between his fingers and coaxes it to hardness. Jensen flicks his tongue over Jared's palate and withdraws, only to tip Jared's head back and press his lips to the hollow of Jared's throat. Jared moves his hand up to Jensen's shoulder and kneads the tense muscle there. Jensen hums in approval and gently flutters the tip of his tongue over Jared's sensitized skin, making him shiver.

Jensen draws back. “Get up,” he murmurs and slides a hand down Jared's chest as Jared stands. Jensen wraps a hand around Jared's hard cock and eases it into his mouth. Jared braces his hands on Jensen's shoulders as Jensen licks a bead of precome off the tip and laves his way down the head to the sensitive ridge underneath. Jared drops his head back and moans as Jensen flicks the tip of his tongue around the ridge. When he presses his lips to the head and starts to hum, Jared gasps and has to quickly grab the safety bar to steady himself. “Fuck, yeah,” he whispers, curving his other hand around the back of Jensen's neck.

Jensen takes on more of Jared's length, then places his hands on Jared's ass and pulls him forward. Jared gets the message and thrusts deep into Jensen's mouth. Jensen slaps Jared's ass with one hand and points to a bottle of body wash with the other. Jared gets the hint and opens the bottle, then pours some into Jensen's hand. Jensen slips a slicked-up finger into Jared's hole and Jared tosses the bottle aside in favor of grasping the safety bar. Jared fucks Jensen's mouth as hard as he dares as Jensen inserts another finger into his ass and crooks it in just the right way. Jared lets out a raspy moan and fights to keep his legs from turning to jelly as the shock of pleasure hits. Jensen thrusts his finger into the sweet spot again, sending an electric tingle up Jared's spine, then laves his way up Jared's shaft to flick the tip of his tongue over the slit and echoes the move with his finger; Jared has just enough time to pull back before his orgasm crashes over him like a tidal wave and he comes all over Jensen's taut stomach with a breathy groan. 

Jared retrieves the body wash and squeezes a generous amount onto a sponge. He scrubs the come off of Jensen's belly and soaps up the rest of his well-toned body. Jensen gives him the handheld showerhead and Jared rinses the lather off of Jensen with smooth, even strokes. He lets Jensen do the same for him, and kisses every bit of Jensen's clean, sweet-smelling skin that he can reach. “I love you so much,” Jared murmurs. 

“I love you too,” Jensen whispers back as he sweeps the handheld sprayer over Jared's front. 

Jensen turns off the water and Jared brings the hot towels in from the steamy bathroom. Jared shakes the water out of his hair like a puppy and Jensen's vibrant laugh echoes off the frosted glass as he dries Jared off. Jared carefully towels Jensen off and helps him back into his chair. 

Jensen wheels back to his room and groans. “I need to do laundry.”

“Is it all in here?” asks Jared, indicating Jensen's mesh hamper.

“Uh, yeah, 'cept for these,” he answers, tossing his hospital clothes onto the nearly-overflowing hamper. 

Jared puts on his discarded clothes. “I can get it started. Where's your washer?”

“Downstairs, behind the folding doors.” 

Jared nods. “Be back in a flash.” He takes the clothes downstairs and puts the darks in the washer. 

When he comes back upstairs, Jensen is just emerging from the bedroom in a faded UT hoodie and track pants. “You hungry?”

“Starved,” Jared admits. “Do you have eggs? I make a mean southwestern omelet.”

Jensen snorts. “I appreciate the offer, but how exactly are you gonna use my kitchen, Sasquatch?”

Crap. Jared didn't think of that. He glances though the kitchen doorway at the lowered cooktop and counters. “I'll make do,” he tells Jensen. “You just go relax. I'll take care of everything.”

“Really, you don't have to do that.”

“I want to,” Jared insists. “For Christ's sake, you had brain surgery less than a week ago. If I can't fuss over you now, when can I?”

Jensen shakes his head, but he's grinning. “You are too much.” 

“So I've been told.” Jared smiles and heads into the kitchen. 

It takes a bit of experimentation to find a comfortable way to use the kitchen. Finally, Jared settles on dragging the dining room chair that Chris lent them when Jared first cooked and apparently never took back into the kitchen and positioning it so he can reach both the cooktop and the countertop. 

As Jared is working on chopping the peppers and onions, he starts when Jensen's voice breaks his concentration. “Man, I was expecting to get a better view. That's cheating.”

“Did you really just come over here to ogle my ass?” Jared scrapes the veggies into the skillet and lets them heat up. He kneels on the chair and angles the skillet so that the veggies get evenly coated in oil, then flips them a few times to heat both sides. 

Jensen wolf-whistles. “Damn. I never thought omelet-making could be so sexy.”

Jared pours the egg-and-soy-cheese mixture over the veggies and picks up the spatula. “Admit it, I am a domestic god.” He smirks over his shoulder at Jensen, then tips the skillet so the eggs run into the spaces between veggies and gently prods at the edges with the spatula. 

“Doing my laundry, making me breakfast...I could get used to this,” muses Jensen, crossing his arms and grinning smugly.

Jared flips the omelet with practiced ease. When he first moved out on his own he was a complete disaster in the kitchen, but he hated the prepackaged frozen meals that seemed like his only option. While Googling recipes, he found several websites that offered videos on cooking basics; with no one but himself to feed, he could experiment with whatever techniques and recipes he liked, and by the end of his first year on his own he'd molded himself into a half-decent chef. He grabs a plate from the cupboard and slides the finished omelet onto it, then spoons some salsa and a little more cheese on top.

Jensen reaches for the plate, but Jared holds it out of his reach. “Go sit at the table. I'm not done yet.” Jensen feigns disappointment and goes to the dining room. Jared pours a glass of milk and grabs an orange from the crisper. He slices the orange in half and removes a thin wedge to use as a garnish. Then he picks up two pieces of red pepper and arranges them into a heart shape on the empty edge of the plate. “Close your eyes!” he calls to Jensen, then leans back and looks to make sure Jensen complied.

He sets the plate and glass in front of Jensen, then steps behind him and kisses his neck. “Okay, open them,” he murmurs, but Jensen tilts his head and Jared kisses him properly first.

When Jensen looks down at the plate, he smiles. “You really went all out.” He squeezes Jared's hand. “This is great, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Jared replies and kisses the top of Jensen's head before returning to the kitchen to make his own breakfast. When he comes back to the table, he sees that Jensen has eaten the orange and half of the heart-peppers so they now form a smiley face. Jared grins and sits down on the chair he had to drag back.

Jensen takes a bite and moans in pleasure. “This is amazing. Especially after all that shit they pass off as hospital food.” He looks up. “You could do this for a living, Jared. Seriously.”

“Come on,” says Jared with a shrug. “I just screw around till I find what works.”

Jensen looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes another bite instead. Once they're both finished, Jared shoos Jensen off to the living room while he cleans the dishes. When he's done, he goes out to the living room, where Jensen's flipping through menus on the TV. 

“Hey, I TiVo'ed a Mythbusters marathon last weekend, wanna watch that?”

“Sure,” Jared answers, although he doesn't really care one way or the other. As long as he gets to be with Jensen, he's happy.

Jensen pushes a few buttons and the “Don't Try This At Home” disclaimer starts playing. Jensen hoists himself onto the couch and Jared settles in next to him, pulling him close. “You spoil me,” Jensen murmurs and kisses him softly on the cheek.

“Damn straight,” Jared agrees, smiling and resting his head atop Jensen's.

They're three episodes in when Jensen's phone rings. Jensen looks at the caller ID and rolls his eyes. “Hey, Mom. Yes, I got home just fine. Chris got called into a meeting so Jared picked me up.” Jared watches the screen and tries not to eavesdrop on Jensen's conversation, but that only lasts until Jensen mentions his name again. “No, I'm not sure what Jared's doing tonight.” Jensen holds his hand over the phone. “Mom insists that I bring you over for dinner tonight.”

Jared only vaguely remembers meeting Jensen's parents in the hospital, since he was in pretty bad shape by then. He nods and smiles, hoping Jensen can't pick up on his anxiety. “Yeah, that's okay, I guess.”

Jensen mouths “thank you” and presses his shoulder against Jared's. He uncovers the phone. “Okay, what time do you want us to come over? ...Yeah, that'll work. See you then.” He flips the phone shut. “She wants us there around six.”

“Where do they live?” asks Jared.

“Richardson.” He shakes his head. “They barely let me go all the way to Austin for school. If Mom had her way, I'd be living next door.” 

“They're your parents; they're supposed to feel that way,” Jared replies, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. At least they actually want you around, he wants to say.

“Hey, what's wro—oh. Oh. Shit, Jay, I'm sorry.” Jensen squeezes Jared's hand. “I can call her back if you want, tell her something came up--”

“No,” Jared interrupts, sitting up straighter. “I'm not—it's fine. I mean, your parents are great. Your mom seems really nice.”

Jensen squeezes Jared's hand again and grins. “She thinks you're adorable, you know. She couldn't stop talking about you the last time she called.”

Jared's feels his cheeks burning and ducks his head. “You're just saying that.”

Jensen tips his chin up and kisses him. “I swear, if she were twenty years younger I'd be worrying about the competition.”

“Then it's a good thing I only have eyes for you, isn't it?” says Jared. He cups Jensen's cheek and brings Jensen's mouth to his for a deeper kiss. He can taste the tang of the salsa on Jensen's soft lips and the heat still lingers on Jensen's tongue. 

When they part, Jared stretches an arm around Jensen's shoulders. Jensen reaches over the arm and the end of the couch they're sitting on becomes a recliner. Jensen snuggles into Jared's side and sighs. “Now this is living.”

Jared has to agree.


	14. The Parent Trap

Jensen pulls the van to the curb in front of a sprawling single-story ranch house and kills the engine. Jared swallows hard and tries to calm the butterflies in his stomach. The neighborhood they're in is far nicer than the one he grew up in, and the house in front of them has an impeccable paint job, a well-manicured lawn, and a border of perfectly-sculpted shrubs. 

“Here we are,” says Jensen. He reaches over and pats Jared's knee. “Relax. You have nothing to worry about.”

Jared's not so sure about that. He wordlessly follows Jensen up the path to the front door and hangs back as Jensen wheels over the threshold. Jensen stops and turns to look at Jared. “It's dinner, not a firing squad,” Jensen says with an encouraging smile. “Just be yourself. It'll be fine.” 

Jared steps into the foyer behind Jensen and gapes at the huge living room directly ahead. Along the back wall is a brick fireplace with a huge mantle, atop which are at least a dozen pictures of Jensen and his siblings. Jared wanders across the room to look at the pictures up close. There are glamour shots of each of them as teenagers and Jared can't help snickering at Jensen's floppy boy-band haircut and pouty expression. Beside it is a Christmas-card picture in which Jensen appears to be about thirteen; he's sitting in a lime-green wheelchair and wearing a hideous reindeer sweater that looks to be about three sizes too big. His hair is chopped almost military-recruit short and Jared wonders if Jensen had recently had surgery in that shot. The next picture shows Jensen's brother in a football uniform and approximately-ten-year-old Jensen in a school hoodie with his face painted and his wheelchair draped in red and black streamers, holding his baby sister in his lap. It's freaking adorable and Jared grins until his cheeks ache.

“Oh, there's plenty more where that came from!” chirps Jensen's mom, startling Jared out of his reverie. He looks up to see her smirking in the doorway. “Dinner's almost ready, but afterwards I can get out the photo albums.”

“Oh, please don't,” groans Jensen from behind her. 

“But Jared would love to see them, right?” she replies, winking at Jared. 

Jared bites his lip to keep from laughing and plays along. “That would be great, Mrs. Ackles,” Jared answers.

An alarm shrieks in the kitchen and Mrs. Ackles quickly moves to silence it. Jensen rolls into the living room and smacks Jared's hip. “You just had to encourage her, you lousy traitor,” he grumbles. “Be prepared to get reacquainted with your right hand, mister.”

Mrs. Ackles leans out the kitchen doorway. “Dinner's ready! Jared, can you give me a hand with the rolls?”

“Sure.” Jared hurries into the kitchen and accepts the basket of steaming French rolls, then follows Mrs. Ackles into the dining room. 

She sets a glass baking dish full of pork chops in the center of the table and takes the basket of bread from Jared with a smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” Jensen wheels in with a tray of glasses and a pitcher of sweet tea and sets it on the buffet. “Go tell your father that dinner's on the table,” she instructs Jensen. Jensen nods and leaves. 

Mrs. Ackles points to the seat near the window. “Have a seat, Jared,” she says kindly. She goes back into the kitchen and returns with a bowl of sweet potato casserole.

“This looks great, Mrs. Ackles,” Jared tells her.

“Jensen tells me you're no slouch in the kitchen yourself,” she says.

Jared shrugs. “I love to eat and I live alone...it was more a survival skill than anything.”

Jensen returns with his father in tow. “Hello, Jared,” says Mr. Ackles. “It's nice to see you conscious.”

“Thanks,” Jared says quietly, hoping no one will notice him blushing. Jensen squeezes his hand surreptitiously as he moves to his place at the table.

Mrs. Ackles starts passing the dishes around and soon the room is alive with the sweet and spicy scent of the grilled apples and the cinnamon topping on the sweet potatoes. Mr. Ackles retrieves the pitcher of tea from the buffet and pours glasses for everyone. 

“Jensen, would you like to say grace?” asks Mrs. Ackles.

Jensen smiles. “Sure.” They bow their heads and Jensen recites the short prayer. When Jared glances up, Jensen catches his eye and nods with a soft smile.

The food is amazing and Jared is content to listen to Jensen's mom's story about the search for a Halloween costume for Jensen's nephew, who's marching in the local Halloween parade with his Boy Scout troop. Jensen chuckles and marks the date in his phone.

“So, Jared, Jensen tells us you work for the Post Office,” says Mr. Ackles.

Jared swallows quickly and nods. “Yeah, I work at the big one downtown. Mostly I load and unload trucks, but sometimes I fill in on the sorter.”

“How did you two meet?” asks Mrs. Ackles.

“I told you that already,” protests Jensen. 

Mrs. Ackles smiles. “I know, but I want to hear it from Jared.”

Jared stalls by taking a sip of his tea. “I was supposed to be meeting a blind date and I thought I got stood up. Turns out I was in the wrong bar.” Mrs. Ackles chuckles lightly. “And I noticed that Jensen seemed to be in the same situation, so I asked if I could join him, and things just kind of went from there.” He glances at Jensen and grins.

“Well, I'm certainly glad you two found each other,” Mrs. Ackles replies. “I haven't seen Jensen this happy in years. Poor boy was working himself to death till you came along and gave him something else to focus on.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “It wasn't that bad. So I enjoy my job—what's wrong with that?”

“You just get so attached to those kids,” says Mrs. Ackles. “You work so hard taking care of them; you need someone to take care of you. Right, Jared?”

Jared nods obediently, thankful for the mouthful of food that absolves him from speaking. He understands now why Jensen didn't want to bring him over before this; his mother's comments are a little unnerving even now that he and Jensen are completely committed to one another.

Mr. Ackles excuses himself to take a call and Jared takes advantage of the distraction to finish his dinner. Jensen sets his empty plate in his lap and wheels over to pick up Jared's as well, brushing their fingers together and pressing his shoulder against Jared's. “Meet me in the living room,” he whispers.

When Jensen goes into the kitchen, Jared stands up. “Thank you for inviting me,” he says to Mrs. Ackles. “The food was wonderful.”

“You're welcome anytime,” she replies with a huge smile. “You boys go make yourselves comfortable while I finish up the dishes.”

“Do you need any help?” asks Jared, his long-ingrained manners springing to the fore.

“That's very sweet of you, but I can take care of it.” She pats Jared on the shoulder as she passes by. 

Jared goes out to the living room, where Jensen is waiting for him. “Sorry about that,” he says quietly. “She's always like that. You get used to it.”

“She's not so bad,” admits Jared. “She's just trying to protect you. Can't say I blame her.” He leans forward and presses his lips to Jensen's, mindful of his surroundings. Jensen reaches up and twines his fingers in Jared's hair and Jared deepens the kiss as much as he dares.

Jensen pulls back before they can get too carried away and a few seconds later Mrs. Ackles enters with a thick blue photo album. Jensen groans. “Come on, Mom. Seriously?”

Mrs. Ackles sits down next to Jared and opens the book to a page in the middle. In the middle of the page is a series of pictures of Jensen as an adorable wide-eyed toddler getting braces fastened to each leg. At the end, he's shown standing with the braces, which have velcro straps across the ankle and knee and fasten to a thick plastic cage around his waist and hips, and holding onto bright blue crutches. Mrs. Ackles smiles proudly, but Jared finds it more heartbreaking than heartwarming. He can't imagine what it must have been like for Jensen back then, too young to really understand what was going on, having to struggle to do the simplest daily tasks that his older, able-bodied brother probably took for granted. He feels even worse when the next page shows Jensen swathed in bandages in a hospital bed. Jared shoots Jensen a beseeching look and Jensen nods. 

A few seconds later, Jensen's phone rings. He flips it open. “Oh, hey, Mom, Chris locked himself out of the house and he needs my key to get back in, so Jared and I have to go.”

“So soon? Oh, that's too bad.” Mrs. Ackles sets the book on the coffee table and hugs both of them. “Give Chris my love,” she tells Jensen, kissing him on the forehead. Jared stands up and she pats his arm. “Don't be a stranger, now.”

“Thank you,” Jared says again. Jensen starts toward the foyer and Jared hurries after him.

“I'm really sorry about that,” says Jensen once they're in the van. “She's had her Mom-goggles on for so long she forgets how to be a normal human being.”

“She means well. She's really proud of you, and she's got every right to be. It's just--”

“Those pictures are creepy? Yeah, I know,” sighs Jensen. “To be fair, they make it look a lot worse than it was. I got to go to a lot of cool camps and programs and stuff for kids with disabilities. It wasn't all surgeries and hospital visits and therapy.” Jensen pulls out onto the main road. “That reminds me, we're having a Thanksgiving party for the kids at the hospital next Wednesday. If you're not working, we could use another chaperone.”

“What time does it start?”

“Four,” answers Jensen. 

“I can make it,” says Jared cautiously. “What would I have to do?”

“Keep the snack table stocked and pour drinks,” Jensen replies. “Nothing major. We have some craft projects planned for the kids, we hired a balloon sculptor, and a local author will be reading his newest book.”

“Sounds like fun,” says Jared, giving Jensen a genuine smile.

As soon as they get back into Jensen's house, Jensen pulls Jared in for a fierce hug. “You were awesome tonight,” says Jensen. “I swear, it'll be less awkward next time.”

“It wasn't so bad,” Jared assures him. “I think it's great that you and your parents are so close.”

“Well, there's only one person I want to be close to right now,” Jensen informs him. He nudges Jared toward the couch and turns on the TV. Jared waits for Jensen to get settled and presses himself to Jensen's side. Jensen reclines their end of the couch and snuggles up to Jared, nestling his head between Jared's chin and shoulder and pulling a fleece throw over them both. Jared drifts off to sleep with Jensen's breath tickling his neck and the opening theme to CSI: Miami playing on the TV.


	15. A Day In The Life

Title: A Day in the Life  
Series: Date 'verse (wheelchair!Jensen)  
Author: sinnerforhire  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Jared/Jensen  
Disclaimer: This is an AU. That means I made it all up.  
Summary: Jared gets a chance to see Jensen work. Somehow Chris factors into this.

 

Jared can't help feeling a little nervous as he walks through the main doors of the children's hospital. Jensen's supposed to meet him with a visitor's badge, but Jared's a little early, so he takes a seat on a bench at the side of the lobby and waits.

At precisely 3:45, Jensen wheels out of the elevator and grins. Jared jumps up to meet him halfway. Jensen holds up a red badge and motions for Jared to bend down. Jensen kisses Jared and clips the badge to his shirt at the same time. “Thanks for coming,” says Jensen.

“Nowhere else I'd rather be,” Jared replies, and it's the truth. He's grateful for the chance to see Jensen in his element.

He follows Jensen into the elevator and Jensen presses the button for the fourth floor. “We've got some wild ones today,” he remarks with a grin. “The adolescent wing has its own party this evening, so the kids at our party are all between three and ten years old.” The door opens to reveal a bright yellow corridor with circus animals painted on the walls. Jensen leads him down the hall to the playroom, and halfway there they start to hear the opening strains of the Chicken Dance. It seems awfully--lively--for a party in a hospital.

“Isn't that a little loud?” asks Jared. “I mean, aren't the kids--”

“Too sick for that?” Jensen finishes for him and smiles. “Yes, there are some kids who are too sick to come to something like this. The ones at the party have all been cleared by their doctors. And there'll be at least one nurse and one intern in the room at all times to take care of any emergencies that might arise.”

Jared nods, relieved. Jensen wheels through the door and is greeted by a young girl with a cast and sling on her arm practically jumping into his lap. “You're here! Now can we make turkey hats?”

“Just a minute, Olivia,” answers Jensen. “I have something to do right now, but I'll meet you at the art table in five minutes, okay?” Olivia nods and dashes off to another part of the room.

Jensen points to a long folding table in the back. “There's the snack table.” Jared follows him to the table, which has four boxes of food and a large cooler behind it. Jensen indicates the trays on the table. “Each tray is a different color for a reason. Different dietary requirements are color-coded. Each tray corresponds to one type of diet--gluten-free is red, for example.” He points to the cooler. “All the drinks in the cooler are labeled with colored stickers. Red sticker drinks go on the red tray, and so on.” He opens one of the food boxes. “Same with the food. Red sticker snacks go in red bowls on the red tray. The kids have colored wristbands according to what they can and can't eat. We've already explained it to them, so you don't have to scrutinize every kid. Just refill the trays as necessary and try to have a little fun.” He smiles and squeezes Jared's hand. “The staff members all have green badges, so just yell at one of us if you have questions. And relax, you're gonna do fine.”

A young red-haired woman calls for Jensen, so he pats Jared's hip and wheels off. Jared watches as he takes his place at the head of the art table and starts telling the kids how to make the headbands for their turkey hats. He looks so comfortable with the kids, smiling and patiently explaining things over and over again. As Jared starts filling the trays, he keeps an eye on Jensen as he cuts turkey heads out of brown paper bags and feathers out of colored construction paper. He grins when Jensen picks up a tube of glitter glue and starts tracing patterns on his feathers. A little boy in leg braces like the ones in Jensen's baby pictures holds the paper for Olivia so she can cut feathers with her good hand.

“You must be Jared,” says an unfamiliar voice. Jared looks up at the new arrival. “I'm Misha, one of Jensen's coworkers.”

“Nice to meet you,” replies Jared. “Have you worked with him long?”

“About three years,” answers Misha. “The first two years, I might've had two, maybe three conversations with him about something other than work. Now we can't get him to shut up about his personal life. It's always 'Jared and I did this' and 'Jared's coming over tonight' and 'Wait till I tell Jared'.” He grins. “So it's nice to finally meet the legendary Jared.”

Jared's cheeks heat up. “I, uh...I didn't know that.”

“I'm not saying it's a bad thing,” Misha adds quickly. “We're all thrilled that he finally met somebody. If anybody deserves a Prince Charming, it's Jensen.”

Before Jared can ask what that means, there's a commotion at the door. Jared turns to see Chris standing just inside the door with a mob of kids surrounding him. Chris tries to fight his way through the crowd and Jensen rolls as close as he can. “Alright, guys, Chris can't read you his new story if you don't let him in the room.”

Misha chuckles. “The kids love his books. I swear, when he walks in the room they forget the rest of us exist. Must be nice to be a 'celebrity'.” Jared just nods and keeps his confusion to himself.

Jensen and the red-haired woman herd the kids toward the corner of the room, where a wooden rocking chair sits on the edge of a brightly-colored rug. Misha angles his head towards the side of the room. “Come on over and pull up a chair. Believe me, none of the kids will so much as twitch until he's done reading.”

Jared hangs back until Jensen spots him and hurries over. “Whatever you hear doesn't leave this room, got it? Chris'll kick your ass from here to Houston if you breathe one word about this to anyone else we know.”

Chris sits down in the rocking chair and silences the kids. “So, y'all ready to hear about the Jumpin' Jackrabbit Jamboree?”

“Yeah!” the kids yell.

Chris opens the picture book to the first page and starts to read. It's a cute story, involving banjo-playing bunnies and a “rascally raccoon” that wants to eat them. Chris gets really into the story, using different voices for each of the characters, and the kids sit enthralled until the very last word. 

As they applaud, the red-haired woman makes her way to the front of the room with a plastic bucket. “Time to draw the raffle!” she declares. She reaches into the bucket and plucks out a folded piece of paper. “And the winner is...Hannah!” A freckled blonde with a knee brace makes her way to the front of the room on crutches. 

Chris scribbles something inside the book and hands it to her. “Enjoy it, sweetheart,” he tells her, and that's when Jared finally realizes that Chris actually wrote the book. Suddenly Jensen's threat makes sense.

“Don't worry, his secret's safe with me,” Jared whispers to Jensen. 

Jensen nods. “Good, 'cause he will hurt you.” 

Misha leans over. “Julie's about to send the kids back for snacks, just so you know.”

“Thanks,” says Jared. He stands up and moves to the snack table as the redhead, Julie, reminds the kids about their wristbands and leads them to the table in an orderly fashion, for which Jared is grateful. He hands out drinks and plates of food to the kids in wheelchairs who can't reach across the table, and helps Julie and Misha gather food and drinks for the kids on crutches who can't carry their own plates. 

When the crowd has mostly cleared, Jensen motions for Jared to join him at the art table. Jared goes over and sits down beside Jensen. “Brayden, Amelia, Corbin, say hi to my friend Jared.” 

“Hey, guys,” Jared says, feeling a little silly.

“You're really big,” says Corbin. “Did you eat a lot of vegetables? My mommy says vegetables make you get big.”

Jared glances at Jensen, who's grinning. “That's right,” Jared replies. “Vegetables make you get big and strong.” 

Amelia's eyes widen. “You mean you don't have to get shots?”

Jensen speaks up before Jared can say anything. “Those shots help your bones harden so they can grow and make you taller, but not everybody needs them.”

Amelia crosses her arms and sits back in her wheelchair. “Lucky. I hate shots.”

“I hate shots too,” says Brayden, who has an IV in his arm attached to a portable pole. “They're yucky.”

“Nobody likes shots,” says Jensen. “They hurt. But they help you get better so you can go home.”

The kids nod solemnly. “I wanna get better so I can go swimming,” announces Amelia.

“You can't go swimming in the winter,” argues Corbin.

“It's an indoor pool,” retorts Amelia. “It's under a roof and there's a big slide.”

A small commotion at the door gets Jared's attention. He looks over to see a young woman wearing a pirate costume, a balloon pirate hat, an eyepatch, and a balloon parrot on her shoulder enter the room. The boys immediately abandon their snacks to investigate, with Amelia trailing behind in her chair.

Jensen grins. “That's Allison. The kids love her. She wears a different costume every time she comes in.”

Jared turns back to Jensen. “So is this what you do every day?”

“Well, most days are a little less festive than this,” answers Jensen. “Usually I see the kids one-on-one or in small groups. But I do spend most of my day playing therapeutically with them.”

“You're really good with them,” says Jared. “Now I see why you love it so much.”

Jensen smiles. “The child life staff did so much for me when I was young, so it's nice to feel like I'm giving back. And the kids are great.”

Chris sits down at the table with them and glares at Jared. “I already swore him to secrecy,” says Jensen. “He won't talk.”

Chris nods. “Good.” He turns to Jensen. “I'm gonna hit the road, we've got a gig tonight. You two interested?”

“It's Wednesday,” Jensen reminds him. “We've got work in the morning. Not all of us can keep rock star hours.”

Chris shrugs. “No big deal. Enjoy your quiet night at home.”

“Who says we're gonna be quiet?” replies Jensen, smirking.

Chris swats his shoulder. “Little pitchers have big ears, perv.” He nods to Jared and leaves.

“You wanna get dinner after this?” asks Jensen. 

Jared grins. “Sure. The usual?”

“Works for me.” Jensen starts when a balloon pops.

It's another fifteen minutes before the party starts to wind down. Jensen helps Jared crate the leftover food and drinks so they can be returned to the kitchen. Once they're finished, Jared watches Jensen say goodbye to the kids. They all seem to like him, if the huge smiles and hugs are anything to go by. 

And if Jared gets a little something in his eye watching Jensen ruffle Amelia's hair—well, no one has to know but him.


	16. Family Matters

Title: Family Matters  
Series: Date 'verse (wheelchair!Jensen)  
Author: sinnerforhire  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Jared/Jensen  
Disclaimer: This is an AU. That means I made it all up.  
Warnings: Heavier than usual angst  
Summary: Jared makes a painful decision.

 

Jared hates just about every holiday--except the stupid ones like President's Day that give him a three-day weekend—but his least favorites are Thanksgiving and Christmas. It's a toss-up as to which is worse: Thanksgiving because it's a day devoted to food and family, formerly Jared's two favorite things in the world, and also because it's the beginning of the Holiday Rush, when the Post Office does more business in one month than they do the previous six months combined; or Christmas because it's just as focused on food and family, but lacks the distraction of enhanced productivity. The week after Christmas is the worst workweek of the year, because the insanity is over and all anyone talks about is how great their celebrations were. 

So when Jensen calls him the Monday before Thanksgiving and says, “I have bad news,” Jared curses himself for getting his hopes up.

“I have to work Thursday. I tried to get out of it, but I lost the draw. I'm really sorry,” Jensen tells him, and he does sound pretty upset. “They've got me scheduled 11:00 to 8:00. That's a little late for dinner.”

“Yeah,” Jared replies, not really focusing on Jensen's words. His chest feels empty and hollow, a huge hole where his heart should be. He really thought this year was going to be different. 

“We could hit a diner or something, at least spend a little time together,” offers Jensen. “You probably have to work early the next day, right?”

“5:00 am,” Jared answers. “Wouldn't you rather see your family instead?”

“My brother's family and my sister will be there all weekend,” says Jensen. “I can catch up with them on Friday while you're at work. I know this is a really rough time for you, and I promise, I'll be there for you as much as I can. As far as I'm concerned, you're just as important to me as anyone in my family.”

Jared smiles and feels the hole in his chest shrink just a bit. “Thank you. Just call me when you get done Thursday and we'll figure something out.”

When Jared's phone rings early Thursday morning, his first thought is that Jensen came through for him after all. He bolts upright in bed and fumbles for the right button. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jared.” 

Jared's eyes widen. “Momma? What's going on?”

“Can you open your door?”

Jared scrubs a hand over his eyes and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Gimme a minute to get dressed,” he mutters. He tosses the phone on the bed and throws a hoodie and jeans on over his boxers and t-shirt. He stumbles out to the front door and unlocks the chain and deadbolt. 

“Hi, baby,” she says, wrapping her arms around him. “It's good to see you again.”

“What are you doing here? What about Dad?”

“He was asleep when I left,” she replies. “I drove straight here. I told him last night that I had errands to run before I started dinner.” 

Jared steps back to allow her in. “It's, uh...been a long time.”

She sighs. “I know. Things have been...hectic, lately.”

“How's Megan?”

She winces. “She and Dad had a bit of a falling out.”

“That seems to happen a lot,” Jared replies, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“It's not easy for him, JT,” she says, looking down at the floor. “He's under so much stress at work...the firm's not doing well, not like before, and there's a lot of pressure to either turn it around or sell.”

Jared scowls at her. “He can't use that as an excuse forever. What did they fight about? What 'moral line' did she cross?”

“She got accepted to the MFA program at UT and she wanted to move in with her boyfriend.”

“And of course that means she won't be able to keep it in her pants long enough to go to class, right?” Jared rolls his eyes. “One, it's the twenty-first century and she's an adult. Two, he's the one who raised us, so what does that say about his parenting skills?”

“Jared--”

“He's a sanctimonious, hypocritical asshole and he has no right to dictate how we should live our lives!” Jared clenches one hand into a fist and tries to slow down his breathing. “What are you gonna do when he drives Jeff away too?”

“He's trying,” she argues. “He's going to a new church now, and he's been talking to the pastor about your—situation.”

“My situation?” Jared crosses his arms. “You mean my sinful, depraved lifestyle?” He takes a step forward. “'Cause you know what? I met someone. His name's Jensen and he loves me just the way I am. He doesn't care that I don't have a college degree and I work a crappy job. He loves me anyway. And I might be sinful and depraved for loving him back, but I'm happy. For the first time in eight years, I actually want to get out of bed in the morning. And I'm not letting you, or Dad, or anybody else take that away from me.” 

He gestures at the door. “Either you can accept me for what I am, or you can leave and not come back. I'm sick of feeling like there's something wrong with me for being the way God made me. I'm sick of you sneaking out here and lying to Dad about it. If you really love me, you'll stand up for me. And if you can't, I don't need to see you again.” He lowers his voice. “It's your choice.”

Her eyes well up with tears. “He's my husband, Jared. You can't ask me to choose between you.”

“I think I just did.” Jared walks past her and opens the door. “Goodbye, Momma.”

A tear drips down her cheek. She shifts her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “Good luck,” she murmurs. She reaches out to pat his arm, but draws her hand back without touching him. 

Jared closes the door and locks it before his knees give out. He slides down the wall and lets out a shuddering breath. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the enormity of what he just did hits him like a freight train. He just threw his mother out of his life forever. He'll never get another hug, or wake up to the smell of freshly baked apple pie, or feel her hand stroking his hair when he has a bad day. Hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

He aches to call Jensen, but his phone is on the bed which, in his current state, might as well be a mile away. He pulls his knees up to his chest and lets out a heaving sob, which opens the floodgates. He cries until his voice goes hoarse and snot soaks the collar of his shirt and his head throbs from the pressure in his sinuses. 

He drags himself into the kitchen and drinks three glasses of water, then trudges back to his room. He picks up his phone and scrolls up Jensen's name, then flips it shut and tosses it on the nightstand. It's Jared's family, so it's Jared's shit to deal with. He doesn't want to burden Jensen with this before he goes to spend the day with the kids at the hospital. Jensen doesn't need that. 

He spends the rest of the day sleeping or spacing out in front of the TV. Around two he throws together a couple of sandwiches and has a couple of beers. He's dozing off to the sounds of a James Bond fight scene when his phone rings. “Hello?”

“Hey, how's it going?” says Jensen, and the warmth in his voice makes Jared want to cry all over again.

“Eh, you know. Boring.” He sits up and forces himself to sound casual. “How was work?”

“Not too bad. Lots of families in today, so that leaves less work for us to do.” He hears Jensen's van start up. “Want to meet me at the house in half an hour? I was thinking we could just order in Chinese and watch some movies.”

“That sounds good,” replies Jared, and he means it.

The Chinese place Jensen orders from turns out to be pretty amazing, and Jensen orders them some unusual things, like stuffed bean curd with conch and barbecue duck. Jensen finds The Fellowship of the Ring on cable and they settle in the living room with TV trays to watch the movie and eat.

“Is something wrong?” Jensen asks at one of the commercial breaks.

Jared shrugs. “Just...you know, family stuff.”

“You wanna talk about it?” 

Jared shakes his head. If he lets himself think too hard about it, he knows he'll end up sobbing in Jensen's arms, and if he starts he's not sure he'll ever stop. So it's best not to say anything at all.

Jensen puts an arm around him and squeezes. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know,” Jared assures him. “Just being here with you helps.” It really does. 

Jensen pulls him close and kisses his forehead. “I'm right here, Jay. As long as you need me.”

“Thanks,” Jared murmurs, resting his cheek against Jensen's shoulder. “You're my family now.”

“Damn right I am,” replies Jensen softly. 

Jared sighs. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” says Jensen.

For the first time in twelve hours, Jared thinks it just might be okay.


	17. Best Laid Plans

As Jared walks to his truck after his seemingly never-ending shift, he feels a discomfiting tension prickling at the back of his neck. He spins around, looking for trouble, but he doesn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary. He walks under the lamppost, searching for life in the shadows. He lets his guard down as he unlocks his truck and that's when something—or someone—grabs him from behind. He tries to twist around to face his attacker, but the fucker's strong.

“Don't get your panties in a twist, it's just me.” 

Chris. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jared growls, struggling to break Chris's hold. When Chris suddenly lets go a couple seconds later, it's all Jared can do to not fall on his ass.

“Jensen told me to kidnap you. I'm just followin' orders,” Chris replies with a smirk. “You can get your truck later. Come on.” He angles his head towards his car, parked across the street.

“There is something seriously wrong with you,” Jared grumbles as he follows Chris through the lot. 

“Tell me something I don't know.” Chris opens the door of his car and climbs in.

“Where are we going?” asks Jared when Chris pulls away from the curb.

Chris grins smugly. “You'll see.”

Twenty minutes later, Chris pulls into a shopping center and parks in front of Starbucks. Jared snorts. “Seriously? That's your big surprise?”

“Shut up and go in.” Chris shoves his shoulder. “Jensen's waiting, and my taxi driving duties are officially over. Scram.”

Jared walks into the coffeehouse and finds Jensen sitting at a table in the corner. In the center of the table is a single red rose and a cream-colored envelope. Jensen looks up and beams as Jared crosses the floor. “Finally,” he teases.

Jared grins and shakes his head. “You are too much. Both of you.” He sits down. “What's this all about?”

“I wanted to do this right,” says Jensen. He picks up the envelope and pulls out a thick purple card with gold swirls on the front. He hands the card to Jared. “Open it.”

The fancy calligraphy script is a little hard to read at first, but eventually Jared deduces that the card is an invitation, addressed to Jensen and “Guest,” to a formal holiday party for the employees in Jensen's department at the hospital. When he looks up, Jensen is holding the rose out to him and smiling shyly. “Will you be my date?”

Jared grins and accepts the rose. “You didn't have to do this. I would have said yes anyway.”

“I know, but...” Jensen reaches across the table and covers Jared's hand with his own. “Seems like things have been a little rough for you lately, so I thought this might help.”

“It does,” Jared assures him, squeezing Jensen's hand. “You're amazing, you know that?”

Jensen says nothing; instead, he tugs Jared's hand until Jared steps around the table and kisses him. When they break apart, Jensen puts the card back in the envelope and slips the rose into the pocket on the back of his chair. “The night's not over yet. Come on.”

Jensen leads Jared to Men's Wearhouse two doors down. Once inside, they're greeted by a short, bald man with several colors of tape measures around his neck. “Welcome back, Jensen. I take it this is the strapping young man in question?”

Jensen chuckles and nods. “Indeed he is. You wanna take him back and violate—uh, I mean, measure him?”

The tailor raises an eyebrow. “I certainly wouldn't mind.” He nods toward the back corner. “Shelley has yours in the back room; just go over to the fitting room and let her know you're here.” Jensen nods and wheels off, leaving Jared alone in the clutches of the tailor. “Come on back to the fitting area and we'll have a look at you.”

Jared follows the tailor back to a curtained-off room with mirrors on every wall. “Would you be so kind as to remove your outer shirt?”

“Sure.” Jared pulls off his work polo to expose the t-shirt underneath, which rides up as he pulls the top shirt off. The tailor nods appreciatively.

“You must work out,” the tailor remarks as he wraps a tape measure around Jared's neck.

“I lift boxes for a living,” Jared replies. The tape measure encircles his upper arm.

“That would do it.” The tailor steps back. “Arms up, please.”

The tailor works swiftly, marking down numbers and measuring every conceivable plane of Jared's body. He's pleasantly surprised when the tailor doesn't openly try to cop a feel, though he's not shy about making the inseam measurement as accurate as possible. 

When they're finished, the tailor pushes the curtain back and leaves. When Jared steps through, he's greeted by Jensen, who looks absolutely stunning in a crisp red shirt, black vest and pants, and a black tie with silver stripes. Jared's jaw literally drops at the sight, along with most of the blood above his waist. Jensen smirks. “I take it you like what you see?”

“You look incredible,” Jared manages to croak, his throat as tight as his jeans currently are. “Fuck, Jensen.”

“That's the idea,” Jensen replies with a smug grin. “Think you can hold that thought till we get home?”

Jared turns away from Jensen and tries to think of something, anything else. His mind chooses to replay his argument with his mother and that kills the moment as swiftly as a punch to the gut. “Yeah, I'm good,” he says, forcing a smile.

Jensen's face falls. “I'll go get changed and we'll get yours ordered. Shouldn't take more than ten minutes.” He spins around and heads into the other curtained area. Jared takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself. 

Jensen returns and they meet the tailor at the counter. He has a sheaf of papers, which he shuffles through for a minute before choosing one and setting it down on the counter. “This is what Jensen and I are thinking for you,” he explains.

Jared looks at the sheet. It shows a black tuxedo with a silver vest and the same tie as Jensen had. “This is really nice,” he says, “but how much does it cost?”

“Don't worry about that,” replies Jensen. “We worked it out already. Please say you'll take it, 'cause I think it'll look amazing on you.” 

“Yeah, it looks great, but--”

Jensen smacks Jared's arm. “No buts.” He turns to the tailor. “Go ahead and order it.”

The tailor thanks them and Jensen leads them out of the shop. As soon as the door closes behind them, Jared steps in front of Jensen, forcing him to stop. Jensen sighs. “Jared, I'm handling it. Consider it part of your Christmas gift.” He smiles. “I'm just thrilled that I finally have someone besides Chris to take.”

Jared raises an eyebrow. “You took Chris?”

“He cleans up better than you might think,” says Jensen. He takes Jared's hands in his. “If you insist on feeling obligated, you can repay me by accompanying me to the party and being your charming, witty, adorable self. Alright?”

Jared nods. “Alright.”

Jensen retrieves the rose and hands it to Jared; when Jared takes it, Jensen pulls him in for a kiss. “I wanted to put a smile on your face,” he murmurs. “You've been so stressed out lately.”

Depressed is more like it, but Jared refrains from mentioning that. He gives Jensen another kiss instead and smiles when he draws back. “Then you succeeded,” he tells Jensen.

Jensen beams. “Good.” 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Two days before the party, disaster strikes.

It's the kind of thing that happens when you've got too few overworked, underpaid regulars trying to wrangle too many clueless seasonal temps. One minute Jared's walking down the ramp that extends from the back of the truck to the dock, and the next minute he...isn't.

It happens so fast he doesn't have a chance to register the problem before he hits the concrete floor of the warehouse and the explosion of pain momentarily drowns out everything around him—the engine noise, the shouts of his coworkers, the squeaking of dolly wheels and conveyor belts, the harsh glare of fluorescent lights—and the darkness threatens to drag him under. He can't even figure out what hurts at first; the pain is all-consuming, an inferno setting every nerve fiber in his body ablaze. Black creeps in at the edge of his vision and he gives in to it, lets himself be consumed by it. 

When he comes back to his senses, he slowly blinks a few stray tears out of his eyes and the face of his boss, Jim, swims into focus. “Don't move,” he orders. “Ambulance'll be here in a minute. Just hang in there. Everything's gonna be fine.”

Jared doubts that, the way the lower half of his body is one massive ball of red-hot pain, but he doesn't voice his protest. Instead, he concentrates on trying to breathe without moving anything below his waist. He'd give anything to switch places with Jensen right now and feel nothing instead of the fiery agony he's in now.

Jensen. God, he'd give anything to have Jensen with him right now. Jensen, who knows more about hospitals and operations and physical therapy than anyone without an MD after their name should ever have to. He struggles to remember who he put down as his emergency contact when he filled out all that paperwork for HR when he started. He really wishes he'd thought to change it to Jensen once they started spending more time together than apart. Of course, he never in a million years thought he'd get into a situation where his emergency contact would need to be called.

He sees a flash of bright orange at the side of his vision and looks up to see a uniformed paramedic crouching beside him. “It's Jared, right?” 

“Yeah,” Jared gasps. 

“Okay, Jared, I'm Richard. My partner and I are gonna get you loaded up and ready to transport.” He wraps something around Jared's arm and when it tightens, he realizes it must be a blood pressure cuff. Richard shouts some numbers to his partner and starts gently examining Jared's head and neck. “Are you having any pain in your neck or back?”

“No,” Jared answers. Richard gestures to his partner and shines a light in Jared's eyes. “Can you follow the light for me?” Jared does. “Did that hurt?”

“No.”

Richard nods. “Good. We're still gonna put you in a c-collar and backboard, just in case,” he explains as his partner walks over with the two contraptions. They put the collar on first, fastening all kinds of straps and padding around his ears and chin and forehead, and then strap him to the backboard. It's then that Jared realizes he's been lying on his side this whole time. He should've known that, he thinks.

Richard ties something tight around his arm. “I'm putting in an IV line so we can give you some pain medication before we start working on your legs. Have you ever had morphine before?”

“No.” Morphine would be good right now. Really really good.

“Well, if you start to feel tightness in your chest or throat, let me know immediately, okay?” 

“Sure,” Jared replies. That seems easy enough.

“You're gonna feel a pinch when I put the line in,” he warns, but Jared barely notices it over the screaming pain in his legs. He's really, really fucked up. He's not sure he even wants to know how fucked up he actually is. 

He's not sure how much time passes, but the pain does start to back off once the drugs start flowing. It's hard to latch onto words or sights or thoughts long enough to process them. He sort of feels like that old commercial where the guy's head turns into a balloon that floats above his body. He thinks that might be a bad thing, but he can't bring himself to care.

It does hurt when they start strapping up his legs like they did his neck, but not so much that he can't breathe or think, not like before. He can feel the morphine padding over the worst of the pain, making it fuzzy and soft and dull instead of hot and bright and sharp. He just kind of drifts until the two paramedics turn him over on his back and put him on the stretcher, when the sudden movement makes him dizzy and a little sick. He closes his eyes as they put him in the ambulance and that makes it a little better.

Next thing he knows, someone female is calling his name. He opens his eyes to see a woman with short blonde hair leaning over him. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” she says warmly. “You're in the hospital. My name's Shannon and I'm the nurse who will be taking care of you while you're here in the ER.” She pauses to let the words sink in. “We can't get through to the person you listed as your emergency contact. Is there someone else we can call?”

“My boyfriend, but he's at work,” he says, but it comes out kind of slurred.

“Where does he work?” she asks.

“Children's hospital.” His tongue trips over the last word. 

“What's his name?”

“Jensen,” he replies, making it as clear as he can. “Jensen Ackles.” That gets away from him a little, but she nods her understanding and smiles.

“Okay, I'm gonna let the front office know. I'll be right back.”

He drifts off again. Voices rise and fall around him like waves lapping on a shore and he lets it lull him into a dreamy haze. Eventually one voice rises up out of the depths, the voice he's been waiting for, and he fights his way to the surface to be rewarded with a hand squeezing his own. He turns toward it and is actually able to, which means that he lost the collar at some point. Another hand cups his cheek. “I'm here, Jared, it's okay. Open your eyes.”

It takes some effort, but he pries his eyes open to reveal Jensen, his Jensen, with a wobbly smile and glistening eyes. “Hey,” he murmurs. Jensen's nose is only inches from his, and Jensen is stretching as far as he can to touch Jared's face. 

“Hey yourself,” replies Jensen, but his voice cracks in the middle of the second word. Jared can see his lower lip quivering. God, is it that bad?

“How bad is it?” rasps Jared, his dry lips sticking together. Jensen's hand lifts off his face; a few seconds later, it's holding a cup of water with a straw up to Jared's mouth. 

“Easy, take it easy.” Jared sips the cool water, which tastes better than anything he can remember. He drinks until the straw gurgles at the bottom of the empty cup, after which Jensen moves the cup out of his reach. “Better?”

“Yeah.” He blinks Jensen back into focus. “How bad?”

Jensen sighs. “Pretty bad. Both your ankles are broken and your left knee's dislocated—they think you must have hit harder with that leg. You're gonna need surgery on all three joints, and if you're lucky they'll put all the metal inside your legs instead of outside.” His voice shakes. “They think you can make a full recovery, but it's gonna take a lot of time and a hell of a lot of hard work.”

“'M sorry.” 

“For what?” Jensen rubs Jared's shoulder. “Accidents happen. That's life. Believe me, I know.”

Something gets Jensen's attention and he turns, then wheels back from the stretcher. Jared hears another voice, deeper and stronger, but he can't quite hold on to the words and the new person is too far away for Jared to be able to see him clearly. The hand that Jensen was holding starts to prickle with cold. Someone else—the nurse, he thinks—fiddles with the IV line in his arm, but he doesn't look up at her, just keeps his eyes glued to Jensen. 

Finally, Jensen comes back. “They're gonna take you up to surgery now. I promise, I'll be right by your side as soon as they let me, okay?” He takes Jared's hand in both of his and squeezes tight. “I love you. You're gonna be fine.”

“Love you too,” Jared whispers. 

Jensen backs up and the stretcher starts turning, forcing his eyes away from Jensen. Without his anchor to focus on, Jared closes his eyes and checks out.


	18. Turning The Tables

Title: Turning the Tables  
Series: Date 'verse (wheelchair!Jensen)  
Author: sinnerforhire  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Jared/Jensen  
Disclaimer: This is an AU. That means I made it all up.  
Summary: Jared goes into surgery. Jensen goes a little insane. Jensen POV.

 

This is karma, Jensen thinks. This is 30 years of karma coming back to bite me in the ass.

He idly pushes his wheels backward and forward in his own unique version of pacing. Chris is at a gig in Houston; he took off with the guys around noon. Jensen checks his phone; it's ten of six. The band's probably doing sound check, so there's no point calling Chris. Even if he picked up, what's he gonna do from Houston? Not like he can snap his fingers and teleport 250 miles in the blink of an eye. This is 2009, why the hell aren't there flying cars or those transporter things like in Star Trek?

Shit, he's losing it.

There are people he could call—his parents, his sister, his boss/mentor/all-around-good-guy Jeff Morgan; anyone from work, really. But the only person he wants to talk to is out cold on an operating table. The irony is so cruel it physically hurts, deep in his chest, a gnawing ache eating at him from the inside.

This is not how it works, he wants to scream. You want someone to cut open, you take me, you fucking bastard. 

He doesn't know who he's even talking to. God? Jesus? The Flying Spaghetti Monster? 

Okay, now he's really losing it. He's got to stop reading those articles Misha sends to his work email. Misha's the kind of guy who works with kids because he never stopped being one. And how did he get from cursing the heavens to musing about his coworkers? It's like one of those free association games he uses in his counseling sessions. 

He's starting to feel like he needs some counseling himself. How did his parents survive the first few years of his life with their sanity intact? Jared hasn't even been in surgery two whole hours yet and Jensen's already losing his mind. Sure, the orthopedic surgeon said that Jared has youth and previous good health in his favor, and Jensen knows firsthand that the ortho unit here is one of the best in the state, but that doesn't make him feel any better. Not when they're putting enough pins and screws and wires in Jared's legs to stock a hardware store. Two broken ankles and a dislocated knee. Jesus Christ.

The door opens and Jensen whips around to look at it, but it's not a nurse or surgeon, just a balding, paunchy guy in jeans and steel-toed boots. Jensen moves to turn back around, but the guy speaks. “Are you Jensen?”

Jensen frowns. “Uh, yeah. And you are...?”

“Name's Jim Beaver. I'm Jared's supervisor in the warehouse.” He offers a hand and Jensen shakes it. “He's told me a lot about you. I just got off shift, wanted to stop and see how he's doing. The nurse said he's still in surgery?”

Jensen nods. “Yeah, they decided to do all three joints at once, to minimize the amount of time he'll be under anesthesia.” At Jim's confused look, he goes on. “That's a good thing. General anesthesia has quite a few side effects--the higher the dose, the greater chance of complications.” And boy, does he know about those. He desperately hopes that Jared doesn't get the chance to find out just how bad it can be. 

“They have any idea how long it'll be?”

“It's probably gonna be another two hours at least until he gets out of surgery, and he'll be in recovery for another hour or so after that,” Jensen answers, almost robotically. “If we're lucky, they'll move him to a room upstairs by ten.”

Jim nods, lips pressed into a grim line. “I'll stop back after work tomorrow, then.”

“I'll let him know you came,” says Jensen, although he's not likely to remember.

Jim shifts from one foot to the other and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Just so you know, my sister-in-law is a paralegal. I contacted her earlier, she said there's a lawyer in her office who's willing to talk to Jared.”

“That won't be necessary. My father works for Leahy Price and Walters,” replies Jensen, naming one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. “One of his colleagues will handle the case.”

“Oh.” Jim nods and steps back. “Well, uh, I better be going. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'll be here.” Jensen wheels back out of his way. “Nice meeting you, Jim.”

“Likewise.” Jim shakes Jensen's hand again and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Jensen sighs and looks at his phone. It's after six, so he's really got to eat something soon. There's no reason he can't, it's not like it'll take him more than half an hour to eat in the cafeteria and come back, but if he leaves this waiting room, something will go wrong. It's stupid, he knows, just a wacky superstition with no basis in reality, but it feels real. However, if he doesn't follow his nightly routine he'll feel the consequences later, and he'd rather avoid that if he can.

He can't just leave Jared, though. Jared wouldn't--didn't--leave him. He owes it to Jared.

Yeah, but you owe it to Jared to not dick around and make yourself sick too, moron.

And now he's having an argument with himself. Great. He can't help Jared if he's in a fucking padded room either.

He checks the phone again. 6:11, only two minutes since he last checked. He would have sworn it was at least ten. Maybe the hospital fell into some weird kind of time warp. It sure feels like time has slowed to a crawl. He swears he's aged ten years since he got The Call five hours ago. Two years during the drive to the hospital, a year when he saw Jared all strapped down and busted up, two years while Jared was in Radiology, two years waiting for the results of the X-rays and CT and MRI, and three years since they kicked Jensen out of pre-op and put Jared under. He read a book like that once, where the guy lived forever so minutes to him were weeks to everyone else. 

He's got to get ahold of himself. This is ridiculous. 

He takes a deep breath and edges toward the door. Gathering his courage, he pushes the button and wheels out the door. He doesn't know what he was expecting to happen—some kind of sign from the heavens? He rolls his eyes at his own absurdity and heads down to the cafeteria.

He eats a chef salad and whole wheat roll without really tasting it. He's just about to toss his trash out when his phone rings. “Hey, kiddo,” says Jeff, and Jensen feels the gnawing pain in his chest recede. “Any news?”

“Still in surgery,” says Jensen. “Fuck, Jeff, this is gonna kill me.”

“You want me to come down?”

Jensen sighs. “No. You've got better things to do than watch me have a coronary.”

“Jensen--”

“I appreciate the offer. Really.” Jensen swallows hard. “But this is probably gonna take all night, and you hardly get to spend any time at home as it is.”

“I'm not speaking as your boss, I'm speaking as your friend. Remember we talked about the difference?”

Jensen looks up at the clock. It's nearing his self-imposed deadline. “I'm not gonna drag you halfway across town to watch me sit and stare at the clock.”

“All right,” says Jeff, but he doesn't sound happy. “Call me any time, Jensen. I mean it.”

“Thanks, Jeff.”

“Take care of your boy.”

Jensen nods and attempts a smile. He's pretty sure it fails. “You know I will.” He clicks off the phone and looks once again at the digital clock display. One goddamn minute. Damn thing's mocking him.

On his way back to the waiting room, he stops in the rehab unit to use the bathroom, since it's the best equipped of the public restrooms. Most so-called “handicap accessible” public restrooms aren't really accessible to wheelchair users with their high sinks and low toilets. He's learned to deal—didn't much have a choice in the matter—but as far as restrooms go, the hospital is the next-best option to his own home.

He holds his breath as he wheels through the door of the waiting room. He's not sure why. It doesn't make him feel any better. Although it doesn't make him feel any worse, either. He looks up at Jared's number on the patient tracking screen, which still says the same thing: “Patient is undergoing procedure.” Tell me something I don't know.

“Sucks, doesn't it?”

Jensen turns around. A girl about his age with short blonde hair smiles sympthetically. “Sitting here. It sucks.”

“I'll say.” Jensen wheels over to the couch where she's sitting. “Who are you here for?”

“My boyfriend. Tore his ACL. How 'bout you?”

Jensen nods and turns up one corner of his mouth in a half-hearted smirk. “My boyfriend, too. Fell off a truck and broke both ankles, and dislocated his knee for good measure.”

She winces. “Ouch. No wonder you look like a rubber band about to snap.”

“I never realized what it was like to be in the waiting room as opposed to the operating table,” says Jensen, though he's not sure why he's confessing his innermost thoughts to a total stranger. “I don't know how my parents did this fifteen or twenty times. I'm surprised they both still have hair. Or a stomach lining.”

She nods. “I know what you mean. My grandpa had five heart attacks, and every time he'd get admitted, my dad's hairline receded a little more.”

The door opens. Both of them whirl around to look. A heavyset nurse looks up from her clipboard. “Family for Hartley?”

The girl beams and jumps up. “That's him.” Jensen wheels back to let her out and she gives him another sympathetic smile. “Nice talking to you. Hope you get called soon.”

“Thanks.” She trots to the door and follows the nurse into the hallway.

The next two hours feel like two weeks. Jensen watches the numbers shuffle on the patient tracking board—new patients coming in, others going to post-op and recovery, but Jared's number never fucking moves. Finally, as the digital clock above the board changes from 8:59 to 9:00, Jared's entry changes to “Patient entering post-op, procedure successful.” Jensen drops his head back and breathes--really breathes--for the first time in nearly eight hours.

Nine and a half hours after this whole nightmare began, Jensen wheels into the recovery room. He can't believe how small and fragile Jared looks--Jared, who's built like Superman and could probably bench-press the Batmobile. But lying there under a pristine white drape, legs swaddled in dressings and tape and padding, face so pale he nearly blends into the sheets, Jensen's beloved Hulk of a boyfriend looks more like a Boy Wonder. 

And where the hell are all the comic book references coming from?

Jared's eyes flutter and he lets out a raspy moan. Jensen wheels himself right up to the edge of the bed and takes Jared's hand. “Hey, Jared, you with me?”

Jared's head lolls toward Jensen and he pries his eyes open with visible effort. “Hey,” he croaks. 

“Everything went fine,” Jensen tells him gently, stroking the back of Jared's hand with his thumb. “So just lie back and enjoy the happy juice.”

Jared's mouth quirks up in an attempt at a smile. “Yeah, 's good stuff.” His eyelids droop. “Tired.”

“Then go to sleep,” says Jensen. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Love you,” Jared murmurs, losing the battle with consciousness.

Jensen's sure Jared won't hear him, but he has to say it anyway. “I love you too, Jay.”


	19. Secrets and Surprises

Jensen doesn't quite break land-speed records to get to the hospital the next morning, but he does break several traffic laws, sometimes two or three at a time, to shave nearly ten whole minutes off his commute to the hospital. He greets a few familiar staff members on his way up to the eighth floor.

Jared's still asleep when Jensen enters his room, which isn't really surprising; it's only seven in the morning, the earliest this floor will allow visitors. Jensen called Jeff last night after he got kicked out at midnight, and Jeff gave him the rest of the week and all next week off before Jensen even had a chance to ask. 

A young nurse comes in then and goes through the usual routine, and Jared blinks awake when she takes his blood pressure. Jensen watches his eyes sluggishly focus on the petite woman in front of him and then on Jensen. A lazy smile stretches across his face. “G'mornin'.”

Jensen grins. “Sure looks like it.” People react differently to morphine. If you're a Type-A dickhead with a stick up your ass, you'll probably get upset that you can't think clearly or remember things. If you're a generally good-natured person who doesn't take things too seriously, you'll get so blissed out that you won't give a shit about which way's up. After all, heroin's just morphine all dressed up. “How are you feeling?”

“Stuck.” Jared looks down at his bandaged legs, which could pass for the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man's. “I can't move. My legs are all...heavy.”

“That's 'cause you've got bionic legs now,” Jensen tells him. He drops his voice like the TV show voice-over. “They can rebuild you. They have the technology.” Then he realizes that Jared probably has no idea who Steve Austin is. 

Jared furrows his brow. “Wha'zzat mean?”

“It means you've got a bunch of metal pieces holding your knee and ankles together,” Jensen explains for the fifth time since Jared got out of surgery last night. “Like the Terminator.” 

“Like the girl on the TV show?” Jensen nods. “She's freakin' hot. For a girl, I mean. I'd do her if I liked girls. But I don't,” Jared adds quickly, as though he's afraid Jensen forgot. “I like you. I mean, I love you, but I like you too. You're my best friend. I know I'm not your best friend—tha'ss Chris—but I haven't had a best friend since I came up here so it's really cool that I've got you. 'Specially now.”

“Why's that?” Jensen asks, curious. He knew something was up, something to do with Thanksgiving, and this might be his only chance to get the truth out of Jared. It's kinda douchey to manipulate your stoned boyfriend into confessing his innermost secrets, but it's for Jared's own good. Really. 

“'Cause I told my mom to get lost.” Jared looks down at his hands. “I said if she can't accept me for who I am then don't bother comin' back. 'Cause I have you, and you love me the way I am, and I love you too, and I don't think it's wrong that I love you 'cause you make me happy.” He looks up and smiles shyly. “So you're kinda all I got.”

So that's why he's been so miserable. No wonder. Christ, that's fucked up. “Is there anyone in your family you can still talk to? Any brothers or sisters?”

“M'brother's on their side,” Jared grumbles. “But my little sister, she's kinda in the same boat—Dad kicked her out too. But I dunno where she is. I mean, I do, she's with her boyfriend, but I'm not sure where he lives. Or what his name is.”

“What's her name?” She shouldn't be hard to find—Jensen doubts there are a lot of Padaleckis in Texas.

“Megan. But we call 'er Meg sometimes,” says Jared with an absent half-smile. 

Jensen files the information away in his mental database for later usage. A cunning plan is beginning to take shape in his head. It'll take some serious coordinated effort and a lot of favors, but it'll be worth it. 

Jared frowns and looks down at the bed. “I lost the button.” He sounds so adorably forlorn that Jensen has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

Jensen wheels around to the other side of the bed and follows the cord down to the button that controls the morphine drip, which is twisted in the sheets and wedged in the crease of the bed. He carefully untangles it and hands it to Jared. Jared smiles and tips his head back as he presses the button firmly. “You're awesome,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well, I won't enable your drug habit forever,” Jensen teases. Seeing the obvious relief on Jared's face tears at his heart like adamantium claws. Trying to keep up his usual snarky banter when Jared's lying in a hospital bed wrapped up like a mummified Bride of Frankenstein is pretty damn hard.

He hears the squeaky wheels of a trolley and glances out the door to see a volunteer pushing the breakfast cart. He wonders if she'd take pity on him and get him some decent coffee from the cafe downstairs so he won't have to leave Jared's side. Needless to say, he didn't get much sleep last night.

“Morning!” she chirps, maneuvering the bedside tray into place over Jared's lap. “Got some oatmeal and jello for you this morning.” She sets the covered dish on the tray, then places a carton of milk beside it. “I'll get you some fresh water, too.” She takes the pitcher off the tray and comes back with a new one. “Is there anything else you need right now?”

Jared shakes his head, making stray locks of hair flop over his eyes. “Nope, 'm good.” 

Jensen smiles politely at the volunteer and stretches up to fix Jared's hair. “Don't you ever cut this mop?” he asks lightly.

“Yeah,” answers Jared, comically indignant. “But sometimes I forget, and sometimes I don't have money 'cause the laundry machines in my building break and then I have to go to the laundromat and pay money to do the wash.”

Christ. Jensen knew from the start that he and Jared were in different tax brackets, but he hadn't thought it was quite that bad. However, it's clear that Jared didn't want him to know it was that bad. First his family, now this...how much has Jared been keeping from him? The thought makes his chest tighten. 

Jared pokes at his oatmeal. “Ugh. This looks like paste. Did you know they actually put flavors in the paste now so kids can eat it? That's so gross. I never ate paste. I ate sand once, 'cause my brother told me it was cinnamon sugar, but he got in trouble for that. And we used to eat this stuff called mud pie, but it was really Oreos and pudding and gummy worms and it was really good.” He turns and picks up the cup of jello. “Why's it always green? Nobody likes green jello. Not even when they put pineapples and peaches in it. It still tastes green.”

Jensen shakes his head. If there were Free Association Olympics, Jared would definitely win the gold. He wonders if Jared will remember any of this later. 

Jared eats a few bites of jello and a few more of the oatmeal, and Jensen insists that he drink all the milk. After that, Jensen pushes the tray aside and Jared yawns. “'M tired,” he mumbles.

“Then go to sleep,” Jensen replies, wheeling up next to the bed and lowering it so that he can kiss Jared without having to push himself halfway out of his chair. Jared's face lights up and he curls the hand not tethered by an IV line around the back of Jensen's neck and clumsily kisses him back. “Stay?” Jared whispers.

“Of course,” murmurs Jensen, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Jared's ear. “I'm staying here all day.”

And he does.

*~*~*~*~*

 

“Is that you, Jen? I seem to have forgotten what you look like.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “That's the best you can come up with?” He accepts the garment bag from Chris and drapes it over his lap, making sure the nylon won't catch on his wheels. “You're slipping.”

“It's been a long week,” says Chris. “Remind me never to take gigs the week before Christmas. Traffic's a fuckin' nightmare.”

Title: Secrets and Surprises  
Series: Date 'verse (wheelchair!Jensen)  
Author: sinnerforhire  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Jared/Jensen  
Disclaimer: This is an AU. That means I made it all up.  
Summary: Jared inadvertently spills some beans. Jensen plans a surprise and is surprised himself. Still Jensen POV.

 

Jensen doesn't quite break land-speed records to get to the hospital the next morning, but he does break several traffic laws, sometimes two or three at a time, to shave nearly ten whole minutes off his commute to the hospital. He greets a few familiar staff members on his way up to the eighth floor.

Jared's still asleep when Jensen enters his room, which isn't really surprising; it's only seven in the morning, the earliest this floor will allow visitors. Jensen called Jeff last night after he got kicked out at midnight, and Jeff gave him the rest of the week and all next week off before Jensen even had a chance to ask. 

A young nurse comes in then and goes through the usual routine, and Jared blinks awake when she takes his blood pressure. Jensen watches his eyes sluggishly focus on the petite woman in front of him and then on Jensen. A lazy smile stretches across his face. “G'mornin'.”

Jensen grins. “Sure looks like it.” People react differently to morphine. If you're a Type-A dickhead with a stick up your ass, you'll probably get upset that you can't think clearly or remember things. If you're a generally good-natured person who doesn't take things too seriously, you'll get so blissed out that you won't give a shit about which way's up. After all, heroin's just morphine all dressed up. “How are you feeling?”

“Stuck.” Jared looks down at his bandaged legs, which could pass for the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man's. “I can't move. My legs are all...heavy.”

“That's 'cause you've got bionic legs now,” Jensen tells him. He drops his voice like the TV show voice-over. “They can rebuild you. They have the technology.” Then he realizes that Jared probably has no idea who Steve Austin is. 

Jared furrows his brow. “Wha'zzat mean?”

“It means you've got a bunch of metal pieces holding your knee and ankles together,” Jensen explains for the fifth time since Jared got out of surgery last night. “Like the Terminator.” 

“Like the girl on the TV show?” Jensen nods. “She's freakin' hot. For a girl, I mean. I'd do her if I liked girls. But I don't,” Jared adds quickly, as though he's afraid Jensen forgot. “I like you. I mean, I love you, but I like you too. You're my best friend. I know I'm not your best friend—tha'ss Chris—but I haven't had a best friend since I came up here so it's really cool that I've got you. 'Specially now.”

“Why's that?” Jensen asks, curious. He knew something was up, something to do with Thanksgiving, and this might be his only chance to get the truth out of Jared. It's kinda douchey to manipulate your stoned boyfriend into confessing his innermost secrets, but it's for Jared's own good. Really. 

“'Cause I told my mom to get lost.” Jared looks down at his hands. “I said if she can't accept me for who I am then don't bother comin' back. 'Cause I have you, and you love me the way I am, and I love you too, and I don't think it's wrong that I love you 'cause you make me happy.” He looks up and smiles shyly. “So you're kinda all I got.”

So that's why he's been so miserable. No wonder. Christ, that's fucked up. “Is there anyone in your family you can still talk to? Any brothers or sisters?”

“M'brother's on their side,” Jared grumbles. “But my little sister, she's kinda in the same boat—Dad kicked her out too. But I dunno where she is. I mean, I do, she's with her boyfriend, but I'm not sure where he lives. Or what his name is.”

“What's her name?” She shouldn't be hard to find—Jensen doubts there are a lot of Padaleckis in Texas.

“Megan. But we call 'er Meg sometimes,” says Jared with an absent half-smile. 

Jensen files the information away in his mental database for later usage. A cunning plan is beginning to take shape in his head. It'll take some serious coordinated effort and a lot of favors, but it'll be worth it. 

Jared frowns and looks down at the bed. “I lost the button.” He sounds so adorably forlorn that Jensen has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

Jensen wheels around to the other side of the bed and follows the cord down to the button that controls the morphine drip, which is twisted in the sheets and wedged in the crease of the bed. He carefully untangles it and hands it to Jared. Jared smiles and tips his head back as he presses the button firmly. “You're awesome,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well, I won't enable your drug habit forever,” Jensen teases. Seeing the obvious relief on Jared's face tears at his heart like adamantium claws. Trying to keep up his usual snarky banter when Jared's lying in a hospital bed wrapped up like a mummified Bride of Frankenstein is pretty damn hard.

He hears the squeaky wheels of a trolley and glances out the door to see a volunteer pushing the breakfast cart. He wonders if she'd take pity on him and get him some decent coffee from the cafe downstairs so he won't have to leave Jared's side. Needless to say, he didn't get much sleep last night.

“Morning!” she chirps, maneuvering the bedside tray into place over Jared's lap. “Got some oatmeal and jello for you this morning.” She sets the covered dish on the tray, then places a carton of milk beside it. “I'll get you some fresh water, too.” She takes the pitcher off the tray and comes back with a new one. “Is there anything else you need right now?”

Jared shakes his head, making stray locks of hair flop over his eyes. “Nope, 'm good.” 

Jensen smiles politely at the volunteer and stretches up to fix Jared's hair. “Don't you ever cut this mop?” he asks lightly.

“Yeah,” answers Jared, comically indignant. “But sometimes I forget, and sometimes I don't have money 'cause the laundry machines in my building break and then I have to go to the laundromat and pay money to do the wash.”

Christ. Jensen knew from the start that he and Jared were in different tax brackets, but he hadn't thought it was quite that bad. However, it's clear that Jared didn't want him to know it was that bad. First his family, now this...how much has Jared been keeping from him? The thought makes his chest tighten. 

Jared pokes at his oatmeal. “Ugh. This looks like paste. Did you know they actually put flavors in the paste now so kids can eat it? That's so gross. I never ate paste. I ate sand once, 'cause my brother told me it was cinnamon sugar, but he got in trouble for that. And we used to eat this stuff called mud pie, but it was really Oreos and pudding and gummy worms and it was really good.” He turns and picks up the cup of jello. “Why's it always green? Nobody likes green jello. Not even when they put pineapples and peaches in it. It still tastes green.”

Jensen shakes his head. If there were Free Association Olympics, Jared would definitely win the gold. He wonders if Jared will remember any of this later. 

Jared eats a few bites of jello and a few more of the oatmeal, and Jensen insists that he drink all the milk. After that, Jensen pushes the tray aside and Jared yawns. “'M tired,” he mumbles.

“Then go to sleep,” Jensen replies, wheeling up next to the bed and lowering it so that he can kiss Jared without having to push himself halfway out of his chair. Jared's face lights up and he curls the hand not tethered by an IV line around the back of Jensen's neck and clumsily kisses him back. “Stay?” Jared whispers.

“Of course,” murmurs Jensen, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Jared's ear. “I'm staying here all day.”

And he does.

*~*~*~*~*

“Is that you, Jen? I seem to have forgotten what you look like.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “That's the best you can come up with?” He accepts the garment bag from Chris and drapes it over his lap, making sure the nylon won't catch on his wheels. “You're slipping.”

“It's been a long week,” says Chris. “Remind me never to take gigs the week before Christmas. Traffic's a fuckin' nightmare.”

“My heart bleeds for you,” replies Jensen without thinking. When his brain registers what he just said, he winces. “Shit, I'm sorry.”

“'S alright. It's gotta be tough, seeing him like that. If you need to take it out on someone, I'd rather it be me, anyway. Gimme all the shit you want, if it helps.”

Jensen sighs. “It doesn't—nothing does. You and my parents have to deal with this all the time; how the fuck do you do it?”

“It ain't easy, that's for sure. You're always scared outta your fucking mind, but eventually you learn how to deal with that fear without losing your shit.” Chris cuffs Jensen on the shoulder and looks at his watch. “I gotta run. Call me later.”

“Sure.” Jensen carefully turns his chair around and heads into the bathroom. He told Jared he was going down to the cafeteria, which he did, but he's planning to surprise Jared by changing into the clothes he bought for the party they're missing tonight. Jensen doesn't really care that he's missing the party, since it's pretty much the same food, music, and speeches every year, but he is upset that he won't get to see Jared in his tuxedo—and out of it, as well. Then he feels like a complete asshole because Jared is stuck in traction sucking down opiates while he's bitching about his thwarted libido. Christ, Jensen's a shitty boyfriend. 

He realizes he told Jared he'd be back by now and quickly changes before Jared can send out a search party. He looks in the mirror and knots his tie, then runs a hand through his hair and buttons his vest. 

He takes the elevator to the eighth floor and stops between Jared's door and the next. He dials Jared's phone.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah, the nurse just left,” answers Jared. “Why?”

“Close your eyes,” Jensen instructs him.

“What?”

Jensen drops his voice into the “pure sex” octave. “I said, close your eyes.”

“Okay, they're closed,” says Jared. 

“Don't open them till I tell you to,” replies Jensen. 

He flips his phone shut and wheels into Jared's room. He turns off the overhead light, then carefully opens Jared's closet to stow the bag with his street clothes. He picks up the bottle of sparkling white grape juice, wineglasses, and flameless candle he hid while Jared was down in Radiology getting X-rays. He sets everything on the tray stretched across the bed and turns on the candle. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispers in Jared's ear. 

When Jared does, Jensen threads his fingers in Jared's hair and pulls him in for a kiss. “Surprise,” he murmurs, and pulls back to reveal his party clothes.

Jared stares silently at Jensen for a few moments, then takes in the candle and champagne substitute on the bed tray. When he speaks, it's not exactly what Jensen was hoping for. “Sorry you're missing the party,” he mutters.

Jensen smiles softly. “Tonight we're having our own party.” He twists the cap off the bottle and pours two glasses. “You made it, Jay. Far as I'm concerned, that's reason to celebrate.”

Jared frowns and looks down at his hands. “But I fucked everything up. The party, Christmas...I ruined it.”

Jensen tips Jared's chin up. “As long as I have you, I don't care about the rest. You are way more important to me than any party or holiday.” He hands Jared one of the glasses and holds his own up. “To us.”

Jared's mouth twitches into a hopeful smile. “To us,” he repeats, clinking his glass with Jensen's.

“We're gonna get through this,” Jensen promises. “You and me. Together.”

They both sip their juice, and the room is quiet for a while. Jensen finishes his glass and turns his attention back to Jared. He's still a little glassy-eyed and lethargic from the drugs, which combine with the unnatural stillness to make him seem like a cardboard-cutout version of himself. Jensen loves the way he can trace Jared's thoughts just by watching the expressions play across his face like frames of a film when he thinks Jensen isn't looking. For the past two days Jensen's been looking at a blank screen and he misses the main attraction. He knows, better than most, that there's nothing Jared can do about it; it's a side effect of the medications, nothing more. But Jared's been subdued ever since he cut ties with his mother, and the current situation isn't exactly going to help in that regard. Jensen wants to see that easy, exuberant smile again, and he's willing to do just about anything to evoke it. 

There's a light knock at the door. Jensen looks up, expecting to see an orderly or nurse, and is shocked to see that it's Jeff and Sam, dressed to kill in their party attire. He makes his way out from behind Jared's bed. “Don't you two have somewhere to be? Somewhere with ice sculptures and a dance floor?”

Sam holds her hand over the light switch. “May I?”

“Sure,” Jensen replies. Once the overhead light bursts into life, he turns to Jared and explains. “This is my boss, Jeff Morgan, and his boss, Samantha Ferris, the head of the Child Life department.”

Jeff grins. “Nice to finally meet you. I wish the circumstances were a little different.”

“What's going on?” Jensen asks, as much for his own benefit as Jared's.

“Well, we didn't think it was fair to make you wait till you come back to work to find out about this when the rest of your colleagues heard it fifteen minutes ago,” says Jeff, his grin widening to jaw-cracking proportions, and oh my fucking God he's not—he can't be--

Sam pulls a silver-wrapped package out of her purse and hands it to Jensen. Jensen takes it in shaking hands. He hadn't thought he'd see this for another three years at least. He carefully tears the taped corner of the paper and unwraps the black box. He glances up at Jeff and Sam, who are both beaming, and lifts the lid of the box. Inside is the same crystal star plaque that he's seen on Jeff's desk for the past five years, but this one has Jensen's name engraved in block letters on the front.

“Congratulations, Jensen,” says Sam. “You're the 2009 Children's Hospital Employee of the Year.”

“Good job, kiddo,” adds Jeff, and that's when Jensen just about loses it. He has to turn away from their smiling faces before he does something Jeff will never let him live down. 

He moves to the side of Jared's bed and hands him the box. Jared traces the letters with a finger and smiles. “That's awesome, Jen. You totally deserve it.” 

Jensen sits the box in his lap and wheels up right next to the bed to kiss Jared. Jared reaches up with his IV-tethered hand and cups Jensen's cheek. “I'm proud of you,” Jared murmurs, with a flicker of his usual fire in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Jensen whispers against Jared's lips. He doesn't want to pull away, but the big boss is still in the room and Jensen doesn't want to be rude. He clasps Jared's hand, careful of the IV port, and spins back around to face Jeff and Sam. “I don't know how to thank you guys. This is—well, this is amazing,” he stammers, trying not to sound like the total dork he is and utterly failing. “This is such an honor. Thank you. And going out of your way like this, I really appreciate it.”

“Well, we wanted to see your face,” replies Jeff. “Everyone at the party sends their love and congratulates you on your richly deserved award.”

“Now you're laying it on a little thick,” Jensen tells him, grinning. “But thank you.”

Sam pulls an envelope out of her purse. “They also wanted us to give you this.”

Jensen opens the envelope. Inside is a fancy holiday card with all his coworkers' signatures and a smaller envelope, which turns out to contain a gift card to Barnes and Noble. “We figured since you two'll be spending most of the winter cooped up, that you could use some new entertainment.”

“This is great.” Jensen spins and gives the card to Jared. “Tell everyone we said thank you.”

“Your wish is my command, sire,” Jeff intones. Jensen smacks his wrist with the empty envelope. 

“Well, we'd better get back to the party before Misha tries to hit on my wife,” says Jeff with a grin. “Take care, guys.” He leans down and hugs Jensen, careful not to disturb the box in Jensen's lap.

Jensen's more than a little surprised when Sam leans down to hug him too. “Congratulations, you earned it,” she says as she stands back up. “Have a nice holiday. And nice meeting you, Jared,” she adds, giving Jared a polite smile.

“Thank you again,” Jensen tells them as they move toward the door. “Although 'thank you' doesn't really begin to cover it.”

Jeff smirks. “Well, I accept cash, checks, and Brazilian slave girls.”

“I'm not that grateful,” teases Jensen. “Although I'm willing to share partial custody of a Brazilian cabana boy.”

Jeff laughs. “Good night, Jensen.” He closes the door behind him.

When Jensen wheels back to Jared's bedside, he's trying unsuccessfully to fight off a yawn. Jensen smiles softly. “That should be all the excitement for the night.”

“Your bosses are so much cooler than mine,” murmurs Jared, eyes fluttering closed. 

Jensen tucks a few strands of hair behind Jared's ear. “Next year, you owe me a victory dance.”

Jared sighs softly and drifts off to sleep with one corner of his mouth upturned.


	20. Home For The Holidays

“Hey, ready to blow this joint?” 

Jared tries to look excited, or happy, or even just grateful, but he doubts he pulls it off. Truth is, the painful and humiliating five minute struggle to pull boxers and gym shorts over the hip-to-toe cast on his left leg and the smaller (but still heavy) cast on his right ankle left him pretty much exhausted and it's not even nine o'clock in the morning. However, the prospect of real food and a real bed at Jensen's house is ridiculously appealing after a week in the hospital. Plus, it's two days before Christmas and Jared can't imagine anything more depressing than spending Christmas in the hospital, no matter what Jensen says.

“Jay? You ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” He eyes the ugly metal wheelchair that he'll be using for the next four to six weeks. It's nothing like the sporty lightweight model that Jensen uses. Jared's chair is heavy, wide, and difficult to steer, although Jensen says he'll get better with practice. 

The day-shift orderly, Max, parks the chair next to Jared's bed and takes the bedrail down. Jared takes a deep breath and starts the process of lifting himself into the wheelchair. He can feel Jensen's eyes on him, tries to tell himself that Jensen wouldn't judge him. But as his arms wobble and sweat breaks out on his forehead from the effort of moving two goddamn feet to the right, it doesn't matter if Jensen thinks he's pathetic—Jared knows he's pathetic.

Finally, Jared plants his plaster-encased left leg on the leg rest that's been raised to stick straight out from the chair, making navigating the damn thing even tougher than it already was. He shoves a few damp strands of hair out of his eyes and tries to catch his breath without anyone noticing. 

Jensen grins. “Race you to the elevator.”

“Only if I get a head start,” Jared replies, forcing a grin.

“Tell you what,” says Jensen. “I'll go backwards. That way I can see your pretty face while I kick your ass.” He smirks. 

Jared's prepared to play along, but after he wheels himself through the door at a snail's pace, Jensen's smirk softens to a sympathetic smile. “You just need some practice. Don't worry, by this time next week you'll be popping wheelies like a pro.” He demonstrates as Jared inches down the hallway. 

It seems like it takes an hour to get down to Jensen's van. “I took the back seats out, so you should have room to move,” Jensen tells him. “Make sure you lock your brakes tight.”

It's a lot harder than Jared thought to get up that little ramp. When he lets go of the wheels, he drifts backwards and then he has to push even harder to keep going forward. When he does finally make it into the van, Jensen has to tell him how to reverse the chair so he can move to the back. He locks the brakes and sinks back into the chair. His arms shake from the effort and sweat drips down the back of his shirt. Why the fuck is this so hard? It's not like he lacks the upper-body strength.

Jensen closes the door and glances at Jared in the rearview mirror. “You all set?”

“Yeah,” Jared gasps.

When they get back to Jensen's house, Jensen gets out first. “I'll go open the door. Take your time.”

It's easier to get up the ramp to the house, since the incline isn't so steep that he loses ground between pushes. When he makes it into Jensen's living room, he feels like he just finished a marathon, and he's pretty sure he looks like it too. He doesn't see or hear Jensen, but he doesn't have the energy to yell or go looking for him.

Next thing he knows, Jensen's shaking his arm. “You'll feel better sleeping in the bed, you know.”

“Wasn't sleeping,” Jared mutters. 

Jensen chuckles. “Come on, grumpy, I've got some nice, soft pillows with your name on them.”

Jared has to admit that sounds good. He follows Jensen to the bedroom, where Jensen's piled what must be every pillow in the house on his bed. Jensen taps his arm. “Hold on, I'll help you. Just gimme a minute.” He wheels around the bed and gets in from the opposite side, then moves to the middle of Jared's side. “Let me know if I hurt you,” he says as he takes hold of Jared's left leg. 

Jared hoists himself onto the bed with Jensen's help and Jensen gingerly props Jared's casts on pillows. Jensen reaches for the pillow behind Jared's back and Jared lets him have it, assuming he's going to either fluff it or replace it with a bigger one. Instead, Jensen turns the pillow on its side and slides into the gap between Jared and the headboard, stretching an arm around Jared's back and guiding Jared's head into the curve of his shoulder. “I've been dying to do this all week,” Jensen says quietly. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Me too,” Jared murmurs.

Jensen pulls the covers over them both and rests his chin atop Jared's head. “Just relax. I've got you.”

So he does.

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jared spends most of his first day at Jensen's sleeping. Jensen makes sure he takes his meds and drinks enough water and eats, even brings him a handheld urinal so he doesn't have to get out of bed, which is incredibly convenient but also a little creepy. Jensen doesn't seem to mind, though, and after a week in the hospital Jared sort of understands why. There's no such thing as privacy in the hospital—especially when it comes to bodily functions—and since Jensen spent most of his early life in hospitals and doctors' offices it makes sense that he would lack the kind of body issues that most people have. 

Jared wakes up the next morning to the smell of cinnamon and sweet apple and a kiss from Jensen. “Merry Christmas Eve,” Jensen says softly.

Easy for you to say, Jared thinks, but he thanks Jensen instead. “What smells so good?” he asks.

“Mulled cider,” replies Jensen. “It's a tradition—one of the many I hope you'll enjoy sharing.” He helps Jared sit up. “Don't get dressed; we're taking a shower after breakfast.” 

“How's that gonna work?” Jared mumbles, still not quite awake.

“You'll see.” Jensen kisses his nose. “Come on out when you're ready. I made French toast.” Jared's stomach growls audibly at that announcement and Jensen grins. “I guess you're hungry. Great, there's plenty.” He moves away and pushes Jared's chair into place next to the bed, locking the brake on the far side. “Take your time. I'm keeping it warm in the oven.”

Jared locks the brake on his side and heaves a huge sigh. He hasn't had a pain pill in six hours and the dull, nagging ache in his bad joints is threatening to grow teeth and swallow him up. He could really use some help from Jensen, but he knows Jensen's trying to make the holiday perfect for him and he'd feel bad if he screwed it up by being a whiny bitch. So he grits his teeth and hauls himself into the chair, miraculously managing to do so without banging either of his casts on anything. Still, he's breathing hard and sweating when he wheels out to the dining room.

The dining room table sports a red poinsettia centerpiece and a red, green, and gold striped tablecloth. “You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” Jared tells Jensen when he rolls in with a tray of sugar-dusted French toast and two tall glasses of milk.

Jensen sets Jared's plate, glass, and pills down in front of him and grins. “It's not just for you. We're having some company later.”

“Who?” Jared says flatly. The idea of having to interact anybody besides Jensen or Chris fills him with dread.

“It's a surprise,” replies Jensen. “You'll like it. I promise.”

Jared swallows the pills instead of responding. He appreciates what Jensen's trying to do, he does, but he really just wants to be left alone. Putting on his game face is exhausting and he'd rather just sit around in his underwear feeling sorry for himself. 

Jensen wheels into his place on the other side of the table. “Syrup?” he offers, holding up the bottle.

Jared accepts it and pours some on the French toast he isn't really planning on eating anyway. He hands it back to Jensen and starts cutting the bread into equal-sized squares.

“Try and eat a little, at least,” says Jensen. “You need something in your stomach when you take that stuff. Believe me, you'll regret it if you don't.”

He knows Jensen means well, but it's still annoying. He stuffs a piece of toast in his mouth as a response and is shocked at how good it is. It's better than his own, even. It's light and fluffy and spiced like pumpkin pie. He looks up at Jensen. “This is incredible. Can I have the recipe?”

Jensen smirks. “Nope. Family secret. Can't tell you without a ring.” 

“That's so not fair,” Jared argues. “It's not like we can ever...you know.”

“Well, not legally, but that doesn't mean we can't. Down the road, I mean,” Jensen adds in a hurry. “You know, if we want to.”

Jared nods, not quite sure what just happened. He thinks it was probably more important than his Vicodin-addled brain can comprehend. He takes another bite of the amazing French toast. 

Next thing he knows, his plate is almost empty and Jensen's gathering dishes onto his tray. “You done?” he asks. 

“Yeah, I guess,” answers Jared. “That was really good. Like, really amazingly good.”

Jensen beams. “Thanks. That's why we only make it at Christmastime. Makes it taste even better.” He takes Jared's plate and squeezes his shoulder. “Go get undressed and I'll meet you in the bathroom.”

Jared does as he's told and Jensen helps him cover his casts with special plastic sleeves before he goes into the shower. Jensen washes his hair for him, which is kind of awesome, and helps him scrub off the adhesive crap left on his arm. It's a testament to how drugged up he is that Jensen sponging him down and using the handheld shower on him doesn't make his dick even twitch, and he's too tired to really care one way or the other.

Jared spends most of the day spacing out in front of the TV while Jensen does...things...in other parts of the house. Jensen feeds him a sandwich with his afternoon meds and then disappears. Jared doesn't see him again until sunset, when the doorbell rings. Jensen hurries past him to answer it. “Stay there.”

A minute later, the last person Jared was expecting to see walks into the living room and Jared's jaw drops. “Megan?!”

She swallows hard and gives him a watery smile. “Hey, bro.” She takes a few tentative steps forward, eyes glued to his casts, and gingerly leans down to hug him. He pulls her in tight and clings to her for so long that she fidgets and clears her throat. “Hey, uh, need to breathe here.”

Jared lets her go. “How did you find me here?”

“I didn't. Jensen found me on Facebook. He told me about your, um...” she gestures at his legs. “And he said you stood up to Momma.” One corner of her mouth quirks up. “Right on.”

Jared frowns. How does Jensen know about the fight? He doesn't remember telling him...but then, he doesn't remember his first couple days in the hospital, either. Shit. “Yeah, she...uh, mentioned that you and Dad got into it.”

She rolls her eyes and snorts. “Nice understatement. Yeah, he threw me out. Told me that no daughter of his was gonna live in sin with a filthy whore's son.”

“Sounds like Dad, alright.” Jared motions for her to sit down. “Congrats on UT, by the way. What are you studying?”

Her face lights up. “Thanks! I'm going for a Master's in Theater. They said I could start in the general program and then specialize next year if I want to.”

“That's awesome.” Jared smiles and feels the stretch in his cheeks. Not like he's had much to smile about lately. 

“Yeah, it's exciting. We're getting ready to move once Matt's lease is up at the end of March. He got accepted to the law school, so we'll both be starting classes in the fall.” Megan plays with the zipper on her pink hoodie. “So, uh...how long have you and Jensen been together?”

“About nine months,” answers Jared. “It's been great. I mean, not every second of it, but he's just amazing. I've never been this happy with anyone.” 

She grins. “I'm glad you found someone. I just wish you could have called and told me back when you met him.” She looks down at her hands. “I'm so sorry, JT. I never believed Dad when he said those things about you. I just...I was young, and scared, and I needed them. But I felt awful. I wanted to talk to you, God, all the time, but I knew if he found out...”

“I know,” Jared says quietly. “I'm not mad at you. I know you did what you had to do. But I...I'm really glad you're here now.” He reaches over and puts a hand on her arm. 

He's not the least bit upset when she jumps up and throws her arms around him. “I missed you so much,” she murmurs.

“I missed you too, Meg,” he replies, pulling her close and breathing in the fruity tang of her hair—she always did like strawberry shampoo—and the chemical edge of hairspray. 

He's not sure how long they stay like that, but it doesn't seem like it's very long before Jensen clears his throat and calls them to dinner. Jared takes his pills and pushes the roasted turkey, stuffing, and maple-glazed carrots around his plate while Megan chatters about her classes and Jensen tells charming stories about the kids he works with. He's glad the two of them seem to be getting along and wishes he wasn't too exhausted from the emotional ordeal to join in. Jensen keeps giving him concerned looks and encouraging smiles, but Jared just doesn't have the energy to keep up with them. He can't figure out how Jensen could bounce back from brain surgery in just a couple of days when Jared still feels like a wrung-out dishcloth after more than a week. It's completely and utterly unfair.

Megan helps Jensen clear the table while Jared dozes off in the living room. Megan wakes him up with a hand on his shoulder. “I hate to do this, but I have to meet Matt at his parents' place in Canton, so I'd better get on the road.” She hugs him and kisses him on the cheek. “Hang in there. It'll get better.” She hands him a folded piece of paper. “My cell, email, Facebook, and Twitter. Time for you to get with the twenty-first century.”

He grins. “Thanks.” He tucks the note in the pocket of his cargo shorts. “I'm really glad you came.”

“Wouldn't have missed it,” she replies with a smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.” He wheels after her as she walks to the door. “Merry Christmas, Meg.”

She turns back and grins. “It is now.”


	21. Breaking Point

Christmas is a pretty low-key affair. Jensen invites Jared to his parents' house for presents and brunch, but Jared declines and sleeps in till noon instead. When Jensen comes back, laden with gifts from his family and enough food for a small army, they eat together and watch Christmas movies on cable. It's still better than Jared's last few Christmases, broken ankles and all. They spend the rest of the weekend in much the same way, munching on leftovers—the gingerbread cookies and cranberry-orange yams are particularly good—and playing Madden '09 and Marvel Ultimate Alliance in the rec room with Chris when he gets back from his own trip home. 

Sunday night, Jensen takes a phone call in another room and returns looking anxious. “Jeff asked if I'd be able to come back to work tomorrow. Would that be okay with you?” he asks.

Jared swallows a sigh. Truth is, he's not looking forward to being stuck in Jensen's house all day by himself, but Jensen's been off for close to two weeks now and Jared can't expect him to spend the next month babysitting him when everything in Jensen's house is completely accessible to Jared. 

“Sure, of course,” Jared answers with what he hopes is a convincing smile. “I'll be fine here. I'm sure the hospital needs its Employee of the Year back.”

Jensen grins. “Yeah, I haven't even gotten to gloat yet.” His face softens. “But seriously, you don't mind?”

“No, not at all,” Jared lies. 

“Chris'll be around if you need anything,” Jensen assures him. “And I'll have my phone. I'm not supposed to take calls at work, but I can usually get away with texting.” He glances over Jared's shoulder at the kitchen. “There should be enough in the fridge to keep you for a couple days; I can run to the store later in the week.”

Jared shrugs. “I'll probably just make sandwiches anyway.”

“Well, if you do, make sure to put plenty of veggies in them,” replies Jensen. “I know you don't feel much like eating, but your body needs the fuel for healing. Gotta keep your strength up, too.”

Jared ducks his head so Jensen won't see him roll his eyes. He's sick of Jensen's know-it-all attitude and constant advice, no matter how well-meaning it is. Jensen's supposed to be his boyfriend, not his doctor.

“It's getting late,” says Jensen. “You ready to turn in?”

Truth is, Jared's been ready for the last two hours. Sitting around all day is ridiculously exhausting. He follows Jensen into the bedroom and lets Jensen help him into bed. He's a little better at getting in and out of the chair; his arms don't shake so much now. It still takes three times longer than it does for Jensen, though. He's not sure he'll ever be able to just hop on and off the bed the way Jensen does. He sinks down onto the pillows and tries to catch his breath.

Jensen curls up next to him. “It'll get better,” he murmurs. “Just give it time.”

*~*~*~*~*

 

The next morning, Jared wakes up to an empty bed and a note on the pillow--Left for work. You looked so cute I didn't want to wake you. See you later. Love you, J. Jared grins.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day goes downhill from there. It takes him almost five minutes to wrestle the plastic sleeves onto his casts so he can shower, and another ten to remove them and pull clean boxers and gym shorts over his damp skin. After that he goes out to the kitchen for breakfast and can't reach the cereal box on the bottom shelf of the lower cupboard. He eventually locates a grabber tool, but by that time he's almost too tired and frustrated to care. Then it turns out that he can't use Jensen's food tray because it isn't compatible with the arms of his chair, and his outstretched leg doesn't let him get close enough to the counter to eat off of it, so he ends up holding the bowl over his lap. His full-leg cast also doesn't let him get close enough to the dishwasher to put his bowl and spoon away, so he has to wash them by hand. 

Accessible kitchen my ass, Jared fumes. 

He watches a few hours of Law and Order reruns that are peppered liberally with ads for personal injury lawyers. At least that's one thing he doesn't have to worry about; Jensen's dad is taking care of everything. He even arranged to get Jared's rent refunded for the weeks he's been unable to live in his apartment. Between that and the Christmas shopping Jared didn't get around to doing, he'll be a lot more comfortable financially than he has been in months. He'll have to talk to Jensen about paying his share of the food and utility bills while he's here. It's the least he can do. 

When lunchtime rolls around, he doesn't really feel like dealing with the kitchen again, but he's actually kind of hungry. He's almost forgotten what that feels like. He wheels out to the kitchen and finds a sandwich and salad Jensen was kind enough to make up and leave in the fridge for him. The plate even has a post-it note with Jared's name on it. He snickers at that, because who else does Jensen think is going to show up in his kitchen and claim it? 

After that, he starts to feel a little more human. Maybe he can actually accomplish something besides watching TV and eating. He probably should do his laundry. Chris brought most of Jared's clothes over from his apartment, but most of them had been various shades of dirty. He finds Jensen's laundry basket in the linen closet and gathers up his clothes, then takes the stair lift down to the rec room. 

It takes a little maneuvering, but Jared manages to load his clothes into the washer. The controls are on the front of the machine, so they're easy to reach, and soon the machine starts filling up with cold water. 

Once he pulls the clothes out of the dryer and takes them upstairs, he runs into the next roadblock. Jensen cleared out two dresser drawers for Jared's things, but they're on the right side of the dresser, which means his outstretched leg won't let him get close enough to the dresser to open the drawers from the front despite the extended handles, and if he moves around the side of the dresser he can't reach the far end of either drawer. Frustrated, he shoves a few things in each drawer and dumps the rest on Jensen's side of the bed for him to deal with. He can't wait for Jensen to get home. 

Fifteen minutes after Jensen was supposed to arrive, Jared's phone rings. 

“Hey, man, I'm really sorry,” says Jensen. “The freeway's completely fucked up; I don't know when I'm gonna get home. Think you could start dinner? There's some whole-wheat spaghetti and TVP in the cupboard and an open jar of tomato sauce in the fridge.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jared says, biting back a sigh. Last thing he wants to do is get back in the kitchen, but Jared can't justify making Jensen cook after being at work all day and sitting in traffic for God knows how long.

“You're the best! See you later.” The line clicks off.

Jared locates the spaghetti and TVP in the cupboard and uses the grabber tool to retrieve the boxes. He finds a saucepan and stockpot with strainer lid in one of the wall cabinets. He fills the pot with water from the sink and hoists it onto the counter, then slides it with one hand around the corner to the cooktop and sets it to boil. He locates the tomato sauce and pours it in the saucepan, stirs in some seasonings and the TVP flakes, and heats it up. Luckily his cast fits under the cooktop, so he can sit comfortably until it's time to drain the pasta.

Oh, shit. How is he supposed to get the extremely hot and heavy stockpot from the cooktop to the sink without putting it down on the counter? Jensen only has two hot pads and Jared needs those for the pot handles. The glass cutting board has rubber grips, and the dishtowel is missing from its hanger. Jared cranes his neck, trying to find something, anything, he can use.

Just then, the timer shrieks and Jared nearly jumps out of his skin. He cuts the heat to the stockpot and glances around desperately. His gaze falls on his sleeve and finally it clicks. He quickly pulls off   
his shirt and sets the pot on top of it, locks the strainer lid, then moves his chair back and pulls the pot around the corner to the sink. He struggles to pick up and overturn the pot due to his distinct lack of proper leverage. Finally he ends up merely pushing the pot onto its side and draining it as best he can that way. 

The door opens. “Hi honey, I'm home,” Jensen calls with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Hey,” Jared grates out as he tries to shake the last remaining water out of the pot. He clumsily turns the pot right-side up and stretches as far as he can to reach the tongs. 

“You need any help?”

“Yeah,” Jared answers, relieved. “I can't use your tray thing, so can you do the serving? I'll set the table.”

Jensen grins. “No problem.” He glides easily past Jared and grabs plates from the wall cabinet with one hand while removing silverware from the drawer with the other. Jared accepts the silverware without a word, not trusting himself to keep resentment out of his voice. Jensen also hands over Jared's now-warm shirt and Jared shakes it out a few times before putting it back on. 

When Jensen brings their plates over, he's still grinning. “I could get used to this,” he says.

Jared nods and smiles tightly for a brief moment before turning his attention to his plate. They eat in silence for the most part and Jared doesn't make eye contact with Jensen again until he's nearly finished.

Jensen frowns. “Hey, what's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jared replies, shrugging. “Just tired.”

“Jared.” Jared squirms under Jensen's piercing gaze. “I know things are rough for you right now, but--”

“No, you don't know!” argues Jared. “You have no idea what it's like. I can't do anything without it being a huge fucking ordeal. It takes, like, an hour just to shower and get dressed, and every time I try to do something this stupid cast gets in the way. I'm sick of being tired and hurting and feeling like shit all the time. So excuse me if I'm not in the fucking mood for sharing and caring.”

“You done?” Jensen asks quietly.

Jared crosses his arms and looks down at the table. “Yeah, I'm done.”

“Good.” Jensen bangs on the table, drawing Jared's attention, and glowers at him. “You know, this 'boo-hoo, poor me' shit is getting really old, Jared. Yeah, you got a raw deal, I get that. But you've got a ton of advantages other people in your situation don't. You have an accessible place to stay, a really good lawyer, health insurance that'll pay for good surgeons and physical therapy, and an understanding boyfriend to take care of your whiny ass. Quit feeling so goddamn sorry for yourself. It's time to sack up and get the fuck over it.”

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one whose entire life changed overnight," retorts Jared. "You've been in that chair your entire life. Of course it's all easy for you. But basic shit that you don't even think about is really fucking hard if you've never done it before!" Jared's voice breaks and hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "Fuck, Jensen, I just—I can't..." He wraps his hands around the handles of his chair and grips them so tight his knuckles turn white. "I can't." He ducks his head so his hair falls over his traitorous watering eyes, blocking them from Jensen.

For a long moment the only sound is Jared's hitching breaths and sniffles. He starts when he feels a hand on his. "I'm sorry," murmurs Jensen, loosening Jared's fingers from the chair handle and twining them with his own. "I wish you would come to me instead of keeping this stuff inside till you can't take it anymore. I can't help you if you don't talk to me." 

Jared swallows hard and hastily palms a few stray tears from his cheeks. "You have your own shit to deal with. It's not fair for me to dump all my problems on you."

"But I hate seeing you like this," replies Jensen. He squeezes Jared's hand and thumbs away a tear. "When you hurt, I hurt. That's what love is." He curls a hand around the back of Jared's neck. "You don't have to do this alone. Let me share the load for a while."

Jared sniffles and glances up at Jensen through his bangs. Jensen pulls him close and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "We're in this together. You and me." 

"You and me," Jared repeats hoarsely.

Jensen grins. "Damn straight."


	22. Sick Days and Storytime

New Year's Eve ends up being the same kind of non-event that Christmas was. Neither of them manage to stay up till midnight; they both fall asleep in front of the TV. Jensen wakes Jared up around 1:30 to move to the bedroom. Jensen brought home a list of exercises for Jared that his physical therapist recommended, and after just a couple days of practicing them Jared finds getting in and out of the chair is becoming easier. He can even sit on the couch if Jensen puts up the recliner footrest. 

Unfortunately, Jared still gets tired ridiculously fast, especially when Jensen's gone and he has to do everything himself. He can start dinner but he usually has to have Jensen finish the cooking after he gets home from work. Most nights they go to bed before ten and Jared has yet to wake up before Jensen leaves for the hospital in the morning. 

That's why Jared is shocked when he wakes up on New Year's Day and finds Jensen still sleeping. He glances at the clock on the bedside table. It's nearly eleven, so Jared definitely didn't wake up earlier than usual. He sits up and shakes Jensen's shoulder. "Hey, Jensen, wake up."

Jensen stirs a little and moans. Jared shakes him again and finally Jensen's eyes flutter open. "Jay? W-wha' time's it?" 

"Almost eleven." Jared frowns. Jensen's face is flushed, his lips are dry and colorless, and his red-rimmed eyes are ringed with deep shadows. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"Prob'ly look better than I feel," Jensen mutters. He sluggishly raises a hand and rubs at his temples. "I need water. And Tylenol. Lots of it."

Jared looks over his shoulder at his chair, then at the bathroom door, and back to the chair. All that work just to go five fucking feet to the bathroom. Jared sighs and hoists himself into his chair. He grabs a glass of water and tucks it between the arm of the chair and his hip, then drops the bottle of Tylenol in his lap. 

He watches Jensen struggle to sit up, arms shaking like Jared's had those first few days. Jared sets the water glass on the bedside table and shakes out two pills. When he hands them to Jensen, he's alarmed at how warm Jensen's skin is. He leans over as far as he can and still has to stretch to place a hand on Jensen's forehead. Yeah, that's definitely a fever. Jared gives him the glass and Jensen nods his gratitude before downing the pills and all the water.

"You, uh...need anything else?" Jared asks quietly. He's not panicking. Really, he's not. Jensen probably just has the flu or something. He works around sick kids all day; it's really kind of inevitable. No reason to worry. Right.

...yeah, Jared doesn't believe that either. 

Jensen sort of crumples back down onto the pillows with a soft groan. His eyes slip shut and he's out for the count a moment later. Jared rolls back from the bed and considers his options. He can get back in bed and take advantage of the down time to rest, or he can stay in the chair so he'll be ready in case he needs to get Jensen anything from the bathroom or kitchen. He's never taken care of a sick person before; he hardly ever gets sick himself, and he was probably in grade school the last time anyone took care of him. He has vague memories of cool cloths and apple juice and steaming bowls of chicken soup. Things Jensen probably has, since he gets sick all the time.

Jared wheels out to the kitchen and goes through the cabinets. He finds a few cans of organic chicken vegetable soup, some saltines, and two boxes of herbal tea. The only beverages in the refrigerator are milk, iced tea, and orange juice—none of which Jared would want if he were the one with the flu. Hot tea is probably good, though, so he locates the kettle and puts some water on to boil. 

It hits him as he's tossing the used teabag in the sink that the only way he can bring the boiling-hot mug to Jensen is to hold it between his legs, which prompts a full-body cringe in response. Surely Jensen has some kind of gadget to fix this. It takes a couple minutes, but he locates a clip-on cupholder in a drawer near the sink. He clamps it around the handle of his chair and wheels back to the bedroom.

Jensen's still asleep when Jared pulls up beside the bed, but a coughing fit jolts him awake just as Jared reaches over to wake him. Jared starts and jerks his wheels backwards to get out of the contamination zone. He's got enough problems already.

Once Jensen regains his breath, Jared helps him sit up and hands him the mug of tea. Jensen gives him a weak smile. "Thanks," he croaks.

Jared takes the mug back when Jensen finishes and sits it in the handy little cupholder. Jensen sinks back into his nest of pillows. "Hey, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure." Jared tucks an errant sheet corner back into place and smooths it down. "What do you need?"

"There's this stuff I'm supposed to drink when I'm sick—it's like Gatorade, but without all the artificial crap. The recipe's on a yellow card stuck to the fridge. Can you make about a gallon? Pitcher's in the corner cupboard."

"Sure, no problem," Jared replies with a soft smile. "Anything else you need while I'm out there?"

"Not right now." Jensen shifts position, winces, and settles back down. 

Jared covers Jensen's hand with his own. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not really," Jensen answers hoarsely. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he starts coughing before he can get any words out. Jared tries to subtly but quickly pull back. 

Jared frowns and waits for Jensen to quiet. "Do you have any cough syrup? Or that TheraFlu stuff?"

"I can't take those," says Jensen. "Long story. I'll be okay, 'm just gonna sleep." He yawns, coughs lightly, and clears his throat before his eyes flutter closed.

Jared goes out to the kitchen, finds the card clipped to a red magnet on the refrigerator, and mixes up the 'electrolyte replacement solution'. He tests it just out of curiosity and it's so salty he has to drink a whole glass of regular water just to get the taste out of his mouth. He wouldn't want to drink a whole shot of that, let alone a freaking gallon. He finds a plastic sports bottle in one of the cupboards and throws a few ice cubes in it before filling it with the electrolyte juice and taking it back to the bedroom. 

Jensen's breathing sounds a little congested and he's shivering a little where the covers have slipped down to his waist. Since Jared figures Jensen has everything he needs for now, he drags himself out of the chair and back onto the bed to take advantage of the down time. He gently pulls the covers up over Jensen's shoulder and kisses his burning forehead before dozing off himself.

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jared spends most of the day watching Jensen sleep. He dutifully wakes Jensen every hour to give him the electrolyte stuff and feeds him chicken soup and crackers around five.

"God, this sucks," mutters Jensen. "Great way to start a new year, huh?"

Ain't that the truth. "Well, at least it can only get better, right?" offers Jared. 

"Don't know how it could get much worse," says Jensen.

The next morning, Jared finds out exactly how much worse it can get when he wakes up to a vicious, pulsing headache and a sore throat that feels like it was rubbed with sandpaper and set upon by fire ants. Muscles he doesn't even remember having ache, and his injured joints hurt like hell. He doesn't remember feeling this bad when he fell off the truck. He starts to turn and talk to Jensen, but the sickening swoop in his stomach when he moves makes him reconsider that idea instantly. Beside him, Jensen moves and just the soft swish of cotton against skin pierces Jared's brain like an icepick. 

"Jay? You awake?" rasps Jensen.

"Hrghnhnghn." Just the simple act of groaning makes Jared's throat flare with renewed pain.

"Shit, are you sick?"

"Uh-huh." He doesn't have the energy for actual words.

Jensen groans, but Jared can't tell if it's frustration, pain, exhaustion, or all three. The bed shifts, making the covers tighten around Jared's chest, and the fabric pressing against his over-sensitized skin is like a sheet of nails. He's never been sick like this before. He can't imagine what it must be like for Jensen to have to go through this all the time. 

Next thing he knows, Jensen's lying on his pillow almost nose-to-nose with him. "Chris is coming down," he announces in a near-whisper. "He's done this before. Don't worry about a thing."

"'Kay," Jared murmurs. 

Jensen carefully moves away and Jared lets his heavy eyes fall closed. He feels Jensen's hand on the back of his head. "Sit up a little and drink this," Jensen instructs him. He lets Jensen lift his head off the pillow and opens his mouth when the plastic lid grazes his lower lip. He's sure it must be the salty electrolyte stuff he made yesterday, but today it tastes like heaven even if it does burn like napalm going down. 

He swims in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, never quite waking fully, even as liquids and the occasional pill are poured down his abused throat. When an eruption of dry, hacking coughs finally propels him into full awareness, he notices the sun starting to set outside the bedroom window.

"'Bout time you woke up," says Jensen, the words tinged with teasing but also more than a little concern. 

Strong hands pull him up to near-vertical and he gratefully gulps down whatever is put in front of him. "Whoa, hold up there, cowboy," says Chris, but the admonishment is gentle and caring. "Plenty more where that came from." And like magic, the empty cup is replaced with a full one.

"So, is the patient going to live?" asks Jensen, and Jared can hear the smile in his voice.

He opens his eyes and looks up at Chris, but his eyes don't want to focus. Even so, he thinks he sees a smirk on Chris's face. "I think he's still got some fight left in 'im. Whaddya say, kiddo?" 

"I'll live long enough to kick your ass if you call me 'kiddo' again," Jared croaks. 

Jensen snickers. "He told you, old man."

"I can kick both y'all's ass right now, so quit your bitching or I won't make you any soup." He crosses his arms and grins wickedly. "I'm in charge here. I've got all the power. I can let you fall on your face trying to get up, don't forget."

"Don't listen to him," Jensen stage-whispers to Jared. "He acts all tough, but inside he's a fucking marshmallow." 

Chris glares at Jensen. "What was that, Jennybean?"

"Oh, fuck you," replies Jensen. His voice breaks on the last word and he's overcome by coughs.

Chris's face softens and he moves to the other side of the bed to rub Jensen's back as the coughs double him over. "Hey, take it easy, you're alright," he murmurs, sounding almost paternal. A pang of jealousy makes Jared's chest tighten. He's the one who ought to be comforting Jensen, not Chris. Jared's the only person who should be able to touch Jensen so intimately. Goddamn fucking virus. 

Jensen finally catches his breath and Chris draws back without a word. His normal countenance returns and he takes up position at the end of the bed. Just like that, the moment ends. "I'm gonna make soup. No funny business now, y'hear?" Out of the corner of Jared's eye he sees Jensen flip Chris off with an amused grin. 

Jensen props himself up on one elbow and tucks a damp strand of hair behind Jared's ear. "Feeling any better?" he asks softly.

"A little," Jared answers, leaning into the touch. "Wish I could be better company."

"I could say the same thing," replies Jensen. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Jared shrugs. "'S not your fault. Couldn't really be helped."

"I know, but having the flu on top of two broken legs has got to royally suck." 

"Yeah, pretty much," Jared agrees.

Jensen leans over and presses a light kiss to Jared's dry, chapped lips. "Not how I'd've chosen to spend the first weekend of the new year, but at least we're together." He slides a hand across Jared's stomach and curls up with him, resting his head next to Jared's on the pillow. "I like having you around. Even when you're grumpy and miserable."

"I like it here too," says Jared. "Your house is huge, and it smells better than my apartment, and you have your own washer and dryer. And your shower is fuckin' awesome."

Jensen chuckles. "Yeah, it really is." He kisses Jared's cheek. "And it's even better when you're in it with me."

"God, I can't wait till these casts come off and I don't have to shower in plastic anymore," mumbles Jared, trailing off into a yawn. His eyelids suddenly feel like lead weights, and Jensen's rhythmic puffs of breath on his neck are starting to hypnotize him.

"Go 'head and sleep. I'll have Chris warm up some soup for you later," Jensen whispers. He kisses Jared's jaw and settles his head into the curve of Jared's shoulder. Warm and content, Jared drifts off to sleep.

When he wakes up again, it's fully dark, and the first voice he hears is Chris's. "So the engineer said, 'This train won't move until we find that ring.' Mrs. Whitetail pointed at Rocky. 'He took my ring!' she shouted. 'Look at him. Look how he hides his hand in his pocket. My ring is in that pocket!'"

Jared glances sideways and is disappointed to find Jensen back on his own side of the bed, paging through a sketchbook. "I love the little details in the coaches: the filigree around the windows, the fleur-de-lis pattern on the seat covers, and the antique candleholders. You've got a lot of great stuff here."

"What's going on?" Jared tries to ask, but his throat is so dry that he can barely be heard. Jensen's right there with a glass of electrolyte juice and Jared winces as the salt stings his cracked lips, but he can't deny that he feels a whole lot more comfortable after he's sucked down the entire glass. 

Jensen pulls the glass away and replaces it with a steaming mug of tea. Jared sips slowly at the hot liquid, which tastes almost sickeningly sweet after the salty electrolyte stuff. It's some kind of fruit tea, he thinks, with some honey and lemon added. 

"Chris wanted to test-drive some ideas for his new book," Jensen explains as Jared drinks. "He wants to make sure it's not just another 'Very Special' book about disabilities."

"There's a fine line between 'moral lesson' and 'cheesy cliché'," adds Chris, and the idea of Chris having intellectual opinions and taking his writing seriously just makes Jared's headache worse.

"You don't mind if he finishes, do you?" asks Jensen. "It's not gonna keep you awake?"

Jared coughs a few times before he answers. "Nah, 's fine." He starts to lie back down on his pillow, but Jensen sets the sketchbook aside and guides Jared's head onto his shoulder. 

Jensen settles back and pulls the covers up to Jared's chin. "Sleep tight," he murmurs, dropping a kiss on top of Jared's head.

"'I didn't take your ring,' said Rocky. 'I'm no thief, really I'm not!' Mrs. Whitetail frowned. 'Then take your hand out of your pocket and prove it,' she said. 'But I don't...'" 

With the covers wrapped snugly around him, Jared lets the soft rise and fall of Jensen's chest and the rumble of Chris's low tenor lull him into a deep sleep.


	23. (And They Called It) Puppy Love

Three days later, Jensen's feeling well enough to go to work. Jared's still achy and ridiculously exhausted, so he spends most of his two days alone in bed. By the time Jensen gets home from work Friday night with Chinese takeout and a couple movies, Jared actually feels just about human.

"Great," Jensen says when Jared tells him this. "Because I have something special planned for tomorrow, and I'd hate to have to back out of it."

"What's that?"

"It's a surprise," replies Jensen. He grins. "You'll like it."

Jared puts down his fork. "It's not another estranged family member, is it?"

"No." Jensen spears a piece of tofu. 

"The first time you surprised me, you ended up needing brain surgery," Jared points out. "The second time, I fell off a truck. Surprises don't really work out that well for us."

"Trust me on this one," says Jensen, grin still in place. 

Jensen's still grinning when they go to bed three hours later.

The next morning, Jared wakes up to an empty bed. He throws on sweatpants and a t-shirt, intending to go find Jensen, but a note stuck to the door stops him. Don't leave. I'll come get you. Your surprise awaits.

Just as Jared is trying to decide whether or not getting back in bed is worth it, the door swings open. Jensen grins. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," replies Jared. 

Jensen backs out the door. "Come on, then." He spins around and disappears from view. 

Jared takes a deep breath, grins to himself, and wheels out after him. He rounds the corner into the living room and there, sitting in front of the couch, is a not-quite-full-grown golden retriever that jumps up and starts wagging its tail when it sees him. It launches itself at him but is stopped by the leash that Chris is holding. 

Jensen beams. "Say hello to your new puppy. Jared, this is Sadie."

Jared grins and wheels close enough to pet her head. Her fur is as soft as fleece and her pink tongue lolls as she pants and wiggles and desperately tries to escape the leash. "Let her go, Chris," Jared says softly.

"She'll jump," Chris warns. 

"I don't care." Jared leans down and lets her lick his cheek as he scratches behind her ears. "God, Jen, she's—she's perfect." He glances at Jensen, whose smile matches his own in intensity. "How did you know I like dogs?"

Jensen chuckles. "You talk in your sleep, Jay."

"I do?" No one's ever told him that before. Then again, it's not like he's spent more than one night with anyone but Jensen in years.

Sadie yips happily and surges into Jared's arms. He hears the end of the leash skitter across the floor. She puts one paw on his shoulder and the other on his good knee and showers him with kisses. Jared pets her neck and scratches underneath her collar. "Where'd you get her?" Jared asks. "And how old is she?"

"Nine months," answers Jensen. "She was training to be a service dog, but she didn't really have the temperament they were looking for."

"I can see that," Jared replies, laughing. 

"She does know basic commands, though," says Jensen. "If you tell her 'down', she'll get down."

"Sadie, down," he says sharply. She immediately drops down to the floor and presses her snoot to Jared's good knee. "Good girl," he murmurs, stroking her head. 

"I'm feeling a little left out of this love-fest, so I'm gonna go," says Chris. "I'll bring in the crate and the other stuff." 

"Thank you," Jared says as Chris passes. Chris cuffs him on the shoulder.

Jared turns to Jensen. "I love her. Thank you so much."

"Well, I figure you must get lonely when I'm not here." Jensen wheels over and pats Sadie on the back. "And trust me, you'll never get bored."

Jared smiles. "You're amazing, you know that?" Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "I love you so much, Jensen."

"I love you too," replies Jensen. "Both of you," he adds, leaning over to rub Sadie's head.

Chris comes back in carrying a large crate, which he sets on the floor between the living room and kitchen, and a canvas bag, which he hands to Jensen. "You want me to set up the bowls?"

"That'd be great," answers Jensen. He reaches in the bag and pulls out a rope knot and a well-worn squeaky toy. He tosses the toy across the room. "Get it, Sadie," he commands. Sadie runs to it, her nails scrabbling on the hardwood floor, and scoops up the toy, squeaking it a few times. "Bring it here," Jensen calls, and she rushes back and sits next to Jensen's chair. "Drop it," he says, and she drops it into his waiting hand. Jensen pets her. "That's our smart girl."

"I don't understand—if they could train her that well, why couldn't she be a service dog?"

Jensen sobers. "Her foster family couldn't always make her behave in public. She gets distracted too easily, and she's too rambunctious." He scratches behind one ear. "But we like you that way, don't we?" She barks her agreement. 

Chris comes back from the kitchen. "The water bowl's filled. I'm gonna grab the food and her bed and then she should be all set." He grins and ruffles the fur on Sadie's head. "You are one lucky mutt, you know that?"

"I think she does," Jensen says proudly as Sadie licks Chris's fingers. "And she's a purebred, thank you very much."

"She's a four-legged drool machine," Chris counters, but he shows no inclination to move away from her.

Jensen waves a hand. "Go make yourself useful. Lift heavy things."

Chris flips Jensen off with his free hand, but he pats Sadie a final time and walks out the front door.

"You wanna take her outside?" asks Jensen as he pulls up the handle of the forgotten leash.

"I can't hold her and push at the same time," complains Jared. 

"Sure you can. Watch." Jensen puts his hand through the loop handle so it wraps around his wrist and claps his hands. Sadie snaps to attention. "Sadie, walk." Sadie trots in front of Jensen and Jensen guides her to the back door, which Jared never really noticed before, and unclips her leash. He slides the door open to reveal a wooden deck and a big backyard enclosed in a six-foot wooden fence, and pats her on the rump. "You're off duty. Go nuts."

Sadie bolts out the door and starts sniffing around the yard. Jensen wheels through the door and looks over his shoulder at Jared. "Come on out, it's not that cold."

Jared pushes himself out the door and onto the wooden deck, which extends across the entire back of the house. At the other end sits a low wooden picnic table with two freestanding benches, two lounge chairs, a gas grill, and a storage bench. "How come I've never seen all this?" asks Jared.

Jensen shrugs. "It's Chris's stuff. He's big into barbecue, but since I can't eat most of what he likes, I don't really participate much. Mostly I sit out here and read." 

Sadie clambers up the ramp with a large stick in her mouth. Jared grins and takes it from her, then throws it almost to the back fence. She takes off after it, her nails kicking up little divots of grass as she sprints across the yard. "I wish I had that kind of energy," laments Jared.

"Well, she's only about 6 in human years," says Jensen. "You and I are considerably older than that."

"Don't rub it in," replies Jared. Sadie returns with the stick and Jared throws it in a different direction. 

She runs after it, but instead of picking it up she starts sniffing the ground intently instead. She growls a little and inches toward a small bush near the side of the house. She swipes a paw under the leaves and a rabbit races out and squeezes itself through a tiny opening between the gate and the fencepost. She trails after it, growling and barking and pawing at the spot where it disappeared. 

"Come here," Jensen calls out, and Sadie reluctantly returns to his side. He praises her for obeying and pats her head. He turns and opens the door; she trots in ahead of them and goes straight to her water bowl, which is raised about a foot off the floor on one side of a metal pedestal, with her empty food bowl on the other. 

Jensen grabs a bag of jerky treats off the counter and pulls one out. Sadie jumps for it, but Jensen holds it out of her reach. "Sit," he commands. She sits down, whining a little. Jensen smiles softly. "That's a good girl," he murmurs, handing her the treat, which she devours in a matter of seconds. She licks her snoot clean and looks expectantly at Jensen. "That it for now," he tells her. She gives him a look that demonstrates the origin of the term 'puppy-dog eyes', and when he doesn't respond, she turns it on Jared. 

"Sorry, girl, that's all you get for now," says Jared. He holds out a hand and she ambles over to be petted. 

Jensen starts toward the living room. "How 'bout I put in that movie we didn't get to last night?"

"Sounds good," answers Jared. He scratches the underside of Sadie's neck. "Sound good to you?" He turns and wheels off to the living room, and Sadie follows obediently.

Jensen has the recliner set up for Jared already, so he climbs into it and pushes his chair out of the way. Before Jensen can get on the couch beside him, Sadie clambers up and curls around Jared. Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Apparently I have competition." He grins and gently nudges Sadie aside as he joins Jared on the couch, tucking himself against Jared's side and moving his unresponsive legs to rest against the back of the couch so Sadie can lie down in front of him. Sadie figures this out at the same time Jared does and settles herself across the front of the couch, resting her head on Jared's good leg. Jared stretches an arm around Jensen and cuddles him close, then strokes Sadie's soft head with his free hand. He can't remember ever feeling so comfortable and content in his life.

"I could get used to this," says Jared as Jensen cues up the DVD.

Jensen grins and rests his head on Jared's shoulder. "Yeah, so could I."


	24. Can't Buy Me Love

In the next couple weeks, life at home settles into a comfortable routine. Jared feeds Sadie and himself in the morning and then lets her out in the yard, and the two of them curl up on the couch and watch reruns of procedural shows on cable until Jared makes himself lunch and takes Sadie for her afternoon walk. 

The first couple of walks were a little terrifying due to Sadie's habit of taking off after squirrels and birds and anything else that caught her eye, but after she realized that she was dragging Jared along behind her, she settled down. Jared still has to watch carefully and get her attention before she gets distracted, but the more they walk, the better she gets. She'll never be a real service dog, but Jensen mentioned that they could probably train her to do some tasks around the house, like pick things up off the floor for Jensen, carry things from one room to another, open and close doors, and even help Jensen get dressed. 

After their walk, Jared usually watches a little more TV while Sadie sleeps and then starts dinner. Tonight he's making black bean and brown rice enchiladas. Cooking for Jensen is definitely more challenging than just cooking for himself because of all the restrictions Jensen has to follow, but Jared's found that it's actually kind of fun to learn new techniques and ways of doing things. He spends a lot of time on Jensen's laptop looking at meatless and vegetarian recipes. He never realized how many alternatives there are to red meat, or how much you can do with tofu. He's even started to like tofu ice cream, much to his surprise. Still, he will be glad once the casts come off and he can go out into the world again; he does miss real bacon, steak, and cheeseburgers.

Jensen comes home, as he always does, and Sadie rockets to the door to meet him, jumping up and licking every inch of Jensen's face while Jensen laughs and scratches behind her ears and under her collar. "Okay, that's enough, Sadie. Down." She reluctantly returns to the floor and trails after Jensen to the kitchen, where Jensen feeds her and changes her water. 

"Whatever that is in the oven, it smells awesome," says Jensen as he runs water into her bowl. 

"Black bean and rice enchiladas," Jared replies, smiling.

Jensen grins. "You spoil me." He sets Sadie's bowl on the platform and heads into the bedroom to change—not that his work clothes are all that much different than his home clothes, but in the winter he's partial to flannel pants and hoodies. "How much longer?" he calls from the other room.

"About ten minutes," Jared yells back. Sadie finishes wolfing down her food and starts to dance around the kitchen, lured by the smell of food. "Go lay down," Jared tells her, his voice firm but not reprimanding. She whines a little and goes off to the living room.

Jensen returns a few minutes later and gathers the silverware and glasses to set the table. Jared pulls the pan out of the oven and sprinkles soy cheese and cilantro over the enchiladas. Jensen glances over his shoulder. "Man, that looks amazing. I'm starving."

"Just two more minutes," Jared promises, sticking the pan back into the oven. 

"You're killing me," groans Jensen. 

Jared sits back and waits patiently. "You'll live."

"No thanks to you." Jensen sticks his tongue out at Jared.

Jared laughs. "How old are you? Five?"

Jensen pulls the jug of iced tea out of the fridge and sets it on his tray. He's saved from answering by the chirp of the oven timer. "Thank God," he mutters. 

Jared dishes out the food while Jensen pours them both glasses of iced tea. Jensen puts the tea back in the fridge and takes the two full plates to the table. He moans appreciatively at the scent wafting from the enchiladas. Jensen puts Jared's plate on the table and Jared wheels around to his place. 

While they're waiting for the cheese to cool enough for them to safely taste it, Jensen looks over at Jared with a serious expression. "Have you ever thought about going to culinary school?"

Jared shrugs. "Not really. I mean, I like to cook, but I'm not, like, great at it."

"Yes, you are," replies Jensen. "You obviously have the talent for it. I know you think you're not good enough, but I think you're wrong." He reaches down and produces a brochure for Le Cordon Bleu. "What do you have to lose by trying?"

Jared swallows hard. The truth is, he's so used to thinking he's worthless that thinking otherwise doesn't really occur to him. He pages through the brochure. All he needs to apply is a high school diploma and the application fee. He sets it down. "For one thing, I can't afford it."

"I can," says Jensen.

Jared shakes his head. "No, I—I can't take your money, Jensen."

Jensen sighs. "First off, you're not 'taking my money'. I'm offering to pay for your classes because I love you and I want to see you doing something you like to do and you're good at doing, instead of trudging through a dangerous dead-end job. I want you to be happy."

"You make me happy," counters Jared. "You already got Sadie for me, and I know that adopting and caring for a dog isn't cheap."

"Jared—" Jensen narrows his eyes, then stops himself and takes a deep breath. "Don't worry about the money. What's important to me isn't the money, it's you." 

"Easy for you to say," mutters Jared.

Jensen frowns. "What was that?"

"Nothing." Jared sighs. "Look, I appreciate the offer, really, but I can't accept it. You've already done so much, I feel like—"

"Jared." Jared looks up. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. I didn't let you stay here and get you a puppy because I expect something in return. All I want is for you to feel safe and happy and loved. Forget about the money. I have more money than I'll ever need. And if I want to use it to help you make a better future for yourself, that's my privilege."

"What do you mean, you have more money than you'll ever need?"

Jensen looks down at the table. "I guess I should have told you this before, but this is exactly what I didn't want to happen." He meets Jared's eyes, his expression caught between guilt and defiance. "Remember I told you about the surgery I had when I was a kid for the tethered cord?"

"Sort of," Jared replies, confused.

"Well, the pediatrician I had pretty much ignored all the signs until it was too late. If he'd listened to my parents and got me into surgery earlier, I might still be able to walk." Jared's eyes widen. "Anyway, my parents sued him for malpractice and won a pretty large settlement. My dad represents a big investment firm, so he put the money in a trust fund and invested it with them. Plus, my mom's family was pretty well off, so I inherited a bunch of money when my grandfather died that went into the trust fund as well."

"How much are we talking here?" asks Jared impatiently.

Jensen swallows hard. "Last time I checked, somewhere around 1.2 million dollars." 

Holy shit! Jared knew Jensen had a lot of money, but he never expected it to be anywhere close to that much. Jensen's an honest-to-God millionaire. He's dating a millionaire. Jesus Christ. 

"I bought the house in cash and furnished it," Jensen goes on. "That and college are the only things I've paid for with that money. Chris pays me rent and utilities on the upstairs apartment, and that plus what I make at the hospital is enough for me to live on."

"Why didn't you tell me?" demands Jared. 

"Because it's not important." Jensen turns pleading eyes on him. "Please don't get mad. I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. I just don't see myself any differently because of it, and I really hope you won't either. Honestly, I don't even think about it it until the statement comes in every month."

Jared glares at him. "I thought you trusted me."

"I do!" protests Jensen. "I'd trust you with my life. That's not what this is about."

"Then what's it about?"

"It's about not wanting this to change our relationship. I'm still exactly the same person I was before you knew I had a million dollars in the bank. Nothing's changed." 

Jared takes a deep breath. "I guess I can see why you wouldn't tell me," he says after a long pause. "And you're right, it doesn't change you, or how I feel about you." Jensen smiles. "But I still can't accept your money."

Jensen's face falls, but then his eyes brighten. "What if I lent it to you?"

"What?"

Jensen grins. "How about this: I lend you the money for tuition, and you can pay me back after you graduate and become a famous chef."

"And if that doesn't happen?"

"Then you pay me back however you can, whenever you can," replies Jensen. "But it doesn't matter, 'cause I know it's gonna happen."

Jared's cheeks heat up. "You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do." Jensen wheels halfway around the table and takes Jared's hand. "I wish you could have as much faith in yourself as I do in you. You're an amazing person. I hate that you don't believe that, because you are."

Jared looks down at his lap. His face feels like it's on fire. "Stop it."

"No." Jensen picks up Jared's knife and uses it to tip Jared's chin up to face him. "You are the sweetest, kindest, most caring person I've ever met. You're smart, talented, strong, and capable. You have a huge heart, and most of all, you make me happier than I've ever been before." He wheels his chair right up next to Jared's, facing the opposite direction, and pulls Jared in for a kiss. "And I love you," he whispers.

Jared grins so wide his cheeks hurt. "I love you too." He captures Jensen's lips for another soft, sweet kiss.

When Jensen pulls away, he's smiling ear to ear as well. "Okay, so that's settled." He wheels back to his side of the table and picks up his tray. "What say we heat these plates back up and actually eat this time?"

"Sounds good to me," replies Jared. He gazes fondly at Jensen "How did I get so lucky?"

Jensen shakes his head. "Believe me, I'm the lucky one."


	25. Free at Last

"So this is it," says Jensen. "Your big day."

"Thank God," Jared sighs as Jensen parks the van in one of the blue spaces.

"You nervous?" asks Jensen.

Jared shrugs. "Not really," he lies. He's not exactly new at the bone-breaking thing, so he has a good idea of what to expect when the casts come off in terms of visuals, but he can't help worrying about taking his first few steps. He knows he's got a long course of physical therapy ahead of him, but he'll take the pain of struggling through rehab over the confinement of the chair any day.

Jensen unfolds the ramp and Jared coasts down to the pavement like a pro. "Race you," he offers, spinning to look at Jensen.

Jensen smirks. "You're on." He wheels around the back of the van and lines his chair up with Jared's. "1...2...3...go!"

Jared pushes off as hard as he can and barrels across the lot, keeping pretty even with Jensen. Jensen manages to get ahead of Jared going up the ramp to the hospital's front doors, so Jared redoubles his efforts and manages to just edge out Jensen for the win. "All right!"

"Nice job," says Jensen, pushing the button to open the doors. 

Jared tries to catch his breath without Jensen noticing how winded he is. "Thanks."

They don't wait long in orthopedics before Jared gets called back. The nurse helps him onto the exam table, where he waits for another few minutes. When the doctor comes in, he has Jared's most recent X-rays. "Everything looks good," he says. "What say we get you out of all that plaster?"

"Sounds great," replies Jared with a grin.

The doctor takes the smaller cast off first. The sight of his pale, shrunken leg is pretty unnerving, even though he knew what to expect. The larger cast comes off next and Jared nearly screams with joy. The doctor pulls two ankle braces and a knee brace out of a drawer and helps Jared put them on. 

"Now, you'll have to use the crutches for at least two weeks," he explains. "After that, it'll be up to your physical therapist whether he or she thinks you still need them. For the next five to seven days you should limit the time you spend on your feet as much as possible. You'll find out pretty quickly how much is too much."

Jared nods. "Okay." The doctor hands him a pair of crutches and helps him off the table. Putting his full weight on his legs doesn't hurt that much, but moving the stiff joints does. 

When he makes it to the waiting room, Jensen greets him with a huge smile. "Free at last. How does it feel?"

"Oh my God, you have no idea," replies Jared. Even though it hurts, it's still a hundred times better than being trapped in that damn chair.

It's slow going from the orthopedic ward to the van, but Jensen doesn't seem to mind. "So, your PT appointment isn't until two, so what do you say we go celebrate?"

Jared raises an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

Jensen grins. "How does barbecue sound?"

"Like heaven." Jared stops at the van and sticks one crutch in front of Jensen's chair to stop him. "Have I told you how awesome you've been for putting up with my whiny ass for two months?"

Jensen laughs. "No, I don't think you have."

Jared leans his crutches against the van and locks Jensen's brakes so he can lean on the arms of Jensen's chair and kiss him. Jensen reaches up and cups Jared's cheek as their tongues twirl around one another. "I love you so much," Jared murmurs, his lips just barely brushing Jensen's.

"I love you too," whispers Jensen, pressing his lips to Jared's for another passionate kiss.

Jared finally has to break the kiss when he starts to feel lightheaded. He gropes for the side of the van and steadies himself. "You okay?" asks Jensen.

"Yeah," Jared answers a little breathlessly. "Just a head rush. I'm good."

Jensen nods at the van door. "Sit down. Your body isn't used to standing yet."

Jared nods and does as he's told. Jensen wheels around and gets into the driver's side. 

Luckily, the barbecue place isn't too far down the road. The lunch rush isn't quite in full swing yet, so they manage to get a table right away. The tangy smells in the air alone are enough to make Jared's mouth water. He's been craving real food for weeks. Not that he minds cooking meatless for Jensen, but Jared's a Texan through and through, and a life without ribs is not one he wants to contemplate.

Between the two of them, they go through two pitchers of sweet tea, a whole rack of ribs, a half chicken, and half a dozen ears of corn on the cob, and Jared savors every bite. "You are the greatest boyfriend ever," he tells Jensen as he licks the last of the barbecue sauce off his fingers.

Jensen grins wryly. "They always say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"Well, I am a growing boy," replies Jared.

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Oh really now."

"In more ways than one," says Jared, his voice sliding low and throaty.

Jensen smirks. "Is that a promise?"

"Maaaaybe."

Jensen throws a napkin at him. "Don't tease. You're not gonna be worth shit after PT."

"Nothing two Vicodin and a nap can't fix," retorts Jared. "I want to express my appreciation properly."

Jensen gives him a coy smile. "Well, if you insist..."

"Oh, I insist." Jared makes a show of looking Jensen up and down. 

Jensen swallows hard. "Don't look at me like that in public," he warns in a low voice. 

"Why not?"

"Because I'm two seconds away from taking you home and fucking you senseless," growls Jensen.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Jared shoves his chair back from the table. "You go start the van. I'll settle up."

"No, you won't." Jensen tosses Jared the keys. "You start the van. I'll be out in a sec."

It ends up taking quite a few seconds for Jensen to pay the bill, so Jared amuses himself by picturing all the things he wants Jensen to do to him when they get home. His jeans are feeling uncomfortably tight by the time Jensen finally gets into the van.

When they get back to the house, Jensen races in and puts Sadie out in the yard before Jared even makes it inside. By the time Jared gets to the bedroom, Jensen's clothes are on the floor and the bathroom door is half closed. Jared carefully shucks his own clothes and turns down the bed. He's half hard already, and being off his feet feels a lot better.

Jensen comes in and gets into bed beside him. Jared pounces on him, capturing Jensen's lips for a bruising kiss and wrapping his fingers around the base of Jensen's cock. Jensen groans as Jared starts to jerk him off with strong, sure strokes. 

"Been waiting so long," breathes Jensen, tangling his fingers in Jared's hair and sliding a hand down Jared's abs to his fully hard dick. He traces a fingertip lightly around the head, making Jared's stomach flutter. "Turn around."

"What do you--ohhh..." Jared shifts around until his head is at the opposite end of the bed. 

Jensen takes Jared's dick in his hand and blows air across the tip. Jared shivers and moans. "So fucking gorgeous," murmurs Jensen. He closes his lips around the head and flicks the tip of his tongue across the slit. Jared's breath hitches as Jensen takes more of Jared's length into his mouth.

Jared takes hold of Jensen's cock and licks a trail around the underside of the head. Jensen doesn't respond, so Jared wraps his lips around the head and sucks in hard. Jensen's hold on Jared's own dick falters and Jensen pulls in a sharp breath; the cold air against Jared's hypersensitive skin sends a jolt of electricity up Jared's spine and his hips buck. Jared has to let go of Jensen to catch his breath.

Jensen takes Jared all the way to the back of his throat and digs a thumb into Jared's hip. Jared takes the hint and starts to fuck Jensen's mouth. Jared thrusts hard into the humid depths of Jensen's mouth and Jensen takes everything Jared can give, making noises that cause heat to coil low in Jared's belly. When Jensen senses that Jared's close, he grasps Jared's balls tight and slowly slides Jared's dick out of his mouth. "My turn," he rasps, grabbing Jared's hand and guiding it into place.

Jared fists Jensen's cock and jacks roughly. Jensen moans, deep and throaty, and Jared's dick pulses with need. He redoubles his efforts, eliciting ragged gasps and growls from Jensen. Jensen lets go of Jared's balls and huffs hot, moist air over his slit and that's it for Jared. He orgasms with a hoarse cry, painting Jensen's chin and neck come. He feels Jensen release at the same time, sinking into the sheets with a raw, stuttering groan.

"Man, I missed this," sighs Jensen. "Feels like forever since we've done this."

Jared winces. "Sorry about that." He crawls across the bed and spoons up behind Jensen, sliding a hand across Jensen's sweat-dampened chest. 

"Not your fault," replies Jensen. "But I'm glad you're getting better."

Jared nuzzles Jensen's neck. "Me too."


	26. You Make My House a Home

"Whatever you're making, it smells awesome," calls Jensen from the living room, where Sadie greets him with her usual enthusiasm.

Jared grins and goes to the door to wrestle Sadie off Jensen's lap so he can give Jensen his welcome-home kiss. "Five-bean casserole, and there's garlic bread in the oven." 

"Sounds great," replies Jensen. "You totally spoil me."

"You know it," Jared agrees. "Man, what are you gonna do when I move back to my apartment?"

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Who says I'm gonna let you leave?"

Jared's eyes widen. Jensen can't be asking Jared to move in with him—can he? "Are you—you're not saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm pretty sure I am," says Jensen. "I want you to move in with me."

As much as Jared wants to throw his arms around Jensen and shout yes, of course I will, there's a little voice in his head nagging at him--what are you thinking, it's too soon, he's just saying that because he feels sorry for you, you'd be screwed if you ever break up...

"Jared?"

Jared starts. "Sorry, I just—never mind." He takes a deep breath. "I, uh, need a little time to think about it."

Jensen's face falls. "Yeah, okay." He wheels around Jared and into his bedroom without another word.

Dammit. Jared sighs loudly. He's saved from further rumination by the oven timer. He takes the bread out of the oven and sets the pan on the cooling rack. He doesn't really feel like eating anymore, but he won't let the food go to waste. He dishes up a bowl of five-bean for himself and slices the bread. He doesn't know if Jensen's coming out to eat or not, but he'll keep everything warm just in case.

Jensen returns a few minutes later, dressed in track pants and a thermal henley. He serves himself and moves to the table without making eye contact with Jared. Jared opens his mouth to say something but loses his nerve and takes a bite of bread instead. They both eat in uncomfortable silence save for the occasional scraping of silverware against crockery. Jared sneaks an occasional glance at Jensen, but Jensen's attention is totally focused on his dinner. 

Jared takes his empty bowl and bread plate to the sink and rinses them. Now that he's back on his feet, he has to drag the extra chair around the kitchen in order to use the appliances and counters, and does he really want to do that every day, forever? He supposes he could get a wheeled desk chair. 

It's not just that, though. There's also the fact that they haven't even been together a whole year yet, and Jared isn't sure if Jensen would be asking him to move in if the accident hadn't happened. He wants to believe that Jensen's The One, but what if he's wrong? What if they break up and Jensen throws him out? He doesn't have friends of his own that he could go to. Not to mention that Jensen's been pushing him to make a decision about taking classes part-time or full-time, and if he chooses full-time like Jensen wants, he won't have any money to move out with, should the worst happen. 

And there's the big thing. Why is Jensen so willing to completely support Jared? Yeah, he has the money to do so, but what could he possibly be getting in return to make it worth it? Jared doesn't want to be Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, but he's afraid—well, not afraid, exactly, but worried—that it would look that way to outsiders. Not that he should care what anybody else thinks, especially people that he doesn't even know, but it just bothers him, more than it probably should. 

Jensen sets his empty bowl and plate on the counter next to Jared and wheels off. Jared starts rinsing it off without a thought, then realizes what he did. How did he basically become a housekeeper? Yeah, he does chores around the house when Jensen's at work, but that's because there's nothing else to do. And with Sadie around there's more vacuuming and mopping and laundry to do. It really is only fair that he pitch in, because Jensen's giving him free room and board, but now it seems like Jensen's starting to take him for granted, and that's not cool.

Jared's thoughts are a jumbled mess. He really needs to get out and clear his head, so he grabs Sadie's leash and asks her if she wants to go for a walk. She jumps up so fast that she kicks her bed halfway across the room. He clips her leash onto her collar and takes her out. Then it hits him—if he doesn't move in, where would Sadie go? Jensen says she's Jared's dog, but he's pretty sure his apartment isn't big enough for her, and that's if she's even allowed to be there in the first place, which he's not sure about. Plus, Jensen's house is her home, and Jared knows she loves Jensen just as much as she loves him.

And then there was his first instinct, which was to accept first and ask questions later, and maybe that's what he should have done all along. God, he loves Jensen more than anyone else in the world, and what's he gonna do, sit in his apartment alone every night watching bad TV and showering in cold water half the time? He doesn't want to make it about his own comfort, because he worked his ass off to get that apartment and everything in it, but he can't deny that Jensen's place is better than anything he could afford on his own. 

Jared stops Sadie at the crosswalk and carefully squats down in front of her. "What do you think, Sadie? You want me to move in with your other daddy?"

She surges forward and licks his face. Jared chuckles. "I guess that's a yes." He stands back up and shakes his head. "I'm being ridiculous, I know. It's just—well, it's a big step, that's all."

They walk another dozen blocks before Jared steers them back toward Jensen's place. He hopes Jensen's cooled off a little. He hates being on bad terms with Jensen. Jensen doesn't get upset that often, but when he does, he can hold a grudge for a good long time, and Jared doesn't want his acceptance to be marred by hostility.

When they get back to the house, Jensen is nowhere to be seen. Jared gives Sadie a jerky treat, after which she all but dives into her water bowl. Satisfied that she's settled, he goes off in search of Jensen. 

He finally finds Jensen in his study, halfheartedly paging through a book. "Jensen."

Jensen turns around. "Hey," he replies glumly.

"We need to talk," Jared tells him.

"Then talk."

Jared takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I should've just gone with my instinct, which was to throw my arms around you and say yes, of course I'll move in with you. I just—I don't know what I was thinking. Just stupid stuff, mostly." He takes a step forward. "So, this is my official yes. I'd love to move in with you."

Jensen's smile spreads slowly, like he's not entirely sure Jared isn't kidding. Jared kisses the corner of his mouth and then captures his lips for a kiss that he hopes conveys to Jensen exactly how happy and excited he is. "I love you," he whispers against Jensen's lips.

"Love you too," Jensen murmurs. He tangles his fingers in Jared's hair and kisses him breathless.

When Jared is forced to come up for air, he straightens up. "What am I gonna do with my stuff?" he asks.

"How much stuff do you have?"

"Furniture, pots and pans, an old-fashioned CRT TV, an ancient desktop computer..."

"We'll figure it out," promises Jensen. "You're ruining the moment."

"Sorry." 

Jensen grins. "'S okay. C'mon, let's go tell Sadie the good news."

"She's totally on board," Jared informs him. "She thought it was a great idea."

"Oh, she did, huh?" Jensen laughs. "C'mon, let's go celebrate. I'll make us some hot cocoa and meet you on the couch in five minutes."

Jared smiles. "I like this plan." 

After they finish their hot cocoa, Jensen gets the fuzzy blanket and the two of them snuggle up on the couch to watch a movie. Not wanting to be left out, Sadie climbs on the couch and curls up next to Jensen. A few minutes later, she starts to snore softly. Jensen chuckles. "I guess we're too boring for her."

"I'm not bored," says Jared, leaning in to nuzzle Jensen's jaw. "Are you?"

Jensen presses a kiss to Jared's cheek. "Not at all."


	27. Let Your Heart Be Light

Jared drops the envelope in the mailbox and grins. It's been a week since he officially moved in with Jensen and he's never been happier in his life. Chris and his friends helped Jared move his furniture and some of the duplicate items into a small storage area he rented and then moved the rest of Jared's stuff to Jensen's house. Jensen set aside a portion of the rec room as "Jared-space" and Chris helped Jared block it off with privacy screens. His TV and computer are in there, along with some of his music and movies and books. His cookbooks are on a shelf in the dining room, his clothes are in the master bedroom closet, and his pots and pans are sharing space with Jensen's in their new corner cabinet. All that's left to do is submit the change of mailing address forms, which he just did, and update his driver's license and registration, which he's on his way to do. After that he has to pick up some stuff at the store and then he'll be able to go home and see his boyfriend and his puppy.

Yeah, it really doesn't get better than this.

He gets a text from Jensen while he's standing in line at the grocery store. are you coming home soon?

Jared beams. yeah, be home in 15 he texts back. He gets a smiley face in response and puts his phone away.

When he pulls up to the house, he's a little confused by the strings of white lights outlining the doors and windows and the icicle lights hanging from the eaves. Christmas was more than a month ago, and Jared knows they weren't there earlier, meaning that Jensen had Chris put them up after Jared left the house two hours ago. He grabs the grocery bags and the textbooks he picked up at the school at the start of his trip and walks in the front door.

Apparently it's Christmas inside as well. There's a fully decorated tree in the alcove, with stockings hung from the windowsill on either side of it. On the end table is a large jar candle blazing merrily away, giving off the scent of vanilla buttercream frosting. The TV stand is draped with a popcorn and cranberry garland, and the stereo is playing a jazz version of the song from the beginning of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Jared sets the bags and books on the dining room table, which is set with a poinsettia centerpiece and holly print place mats. "Jensen?"

Jensen wheels out of the kitchen with a huge smile on his face. On the tray attached to his chair are two snowman mugs topped with whipped cream and garnished with a candy cane and a plate of snowflake-shaped cookies with blue and white sugar sprinkles.

"What is all this?" asks Jared.

"Well, you didn't get to have a very good Christmas," replies Jensen. "So, I thought I'd make it up to you."

Jared hears bells jingling and turns to see Sadie wearing a green elf sweater and hat trimmed with red bells. He can't help laughing. Sadie trots over and rubs her head against Jared's leg, trying to dislodge the hat. Jared leans down and pulls it off, earning a happy face-licking from the grateful puppy. 

Jared looks back at Jensen. "God, Jen, this is--this is amazing. I love it. But how did you do all of this in two hours?"

Jensen grins wryly. "I have my ways." He holds out one of the mugs. "C'mon, drink it before it gets cold."

Jared takes a sip of the hot cocoa, not expecting the sharp bite of the peppermint schnapps Jensen apparently spiked it with. He laughs. "You went a little overboard with the booze there."

Jensen tastes his own. "You're just a lightweight," he replies with a smirk. He picks up a cookie and hands that to Jared. "Here, try this."

Jared does as he's told. It's really good, flaky and light, and the glaze has just a little hint of vanilla to give it some body. He's pretty impressed. "Did you make these? They're awesome."

Jensen beams. "My sister-in-law emailed me the recipe. I'm not sure they're quite as good as hers, but..."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," says Jared. "I don't think I could've done any better. You're not too bad in the kitchen yourself, you know."

Jensen shrugs. "I'm no gourmet chef or anything." He sets the tray aside and wheels over to the tree. "Don't you wanna know what Santa brought for you?"

"You didn't have to get me anything," protests Jared. "Honestly, this is enough."

Jensen shakes his head. "It wasn't me, it was Santa Claus. I just called in a little favor."

Jared chuckles. "Whatever you say." He walks over to the tree and picks up the smallest of the packages stacked under it. It crinkles under his fingers. He turns over the tag hanging from the ribbon. It turns out to be for Sadie. Jared grins and calls her. She bounds over to his side and sniffs the wrapped parcel. He tears it open to reveal a bag of handmade peanut butter biscuits. Sadie nudges the bag with her nose and whimpers a little. Jared grins. "You want a treat? Well, seeing as it's Christmas and all..." He opens the bag and pulls out a bone-shaped biscuit. "Sadie, sit," he commands. She plants her rear on the floor and snaps to attention. "Good girl!" says Jared, handing over the treat and patting her head.

The next package he picks up is also hers. Jared glances at Jensen and shakes his head. "Well, at least you're spoiling both of us rotten," he jokes.

"Apparently Santa can't resist the puppy eyes either," replies Jensen, grinning. 

Jared unwraps the red and gold paper to find a stuffed penguin squeaky toy. Sadie sniffs every inch of it before taking it in her jaws and squeaking the life out of it. It takes Jared a whole minute to pry it away from her and toss it across the room. She rushes after it, skidding to a halt barely an inch from Jensen's back wheel. "Shit, sorry."

Jensen waves it off. "No harm done." He grabs the toy out of Sadie's mouth and throws it on her bed. She pounces on it and starts gnawing on its beak. He nods at the three packages left under the tree. "Maybe it'll be your turn now," he suggests with a wink.

Jared picks up a rectangular package wrapped in silver and green foil and topped with a big green bow. "Really, you didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"Wasn't any trouble at all for me," Jensen says with a grin. "And even if it was, it'd be worth it to see that smile on your face. Now open it."

Jared rips the paper off with abandon until he unearths a cardboard box. He breaks the tape holding it shut and pulls out a plush forest green bathrobe that's softer than anything he's ever owned. He unfolds it, revealing his initials monogrammed on the lapel. "Put it on," Jensen urges quietly.

Jared slips his arms into the sleeves. It's thick and warm and fits perfectly. "I love it," he tells Jensen immediately. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Jensen's smile rivals the star at the top of the tree. "I'm glad you like it."

Jared goes over to Jensen and wraps his fleece-covered arms around him. "You're too good to me," he murmurs, kissing Jensen's neck.

Jensen tilts Jared's chin to give him a proper kiss. "You deserve it." He draws back. "There's still two more gifts under the tree," he reminds Jared.

Jared retrieves the larger of the two remaining packages. He tears off the snowman-print paper and big white bow, then opens the box underneath. Inside is a red Kitchenaid stand mixer that Jared knows costs about three hundred dollars. "Jensen, this is--"

"Exactly what you need for the pastry arts classes," Jensen fills in. "I checked the school website."

Jared shakes his head. "This is too much."

"Not like there's nothing in it for me," counters Jensen. "Those cookies would've been a lot easier to make with that thing than the twenty-year-old hand-me-down that I used."

Jared sighs. "But you don't get anything."

Jensen shrugs. "There's still one more gift over there."

Jared picks up the wrapped parcel. The tag reads "To Jensen &amp; Jared, From Santa." Jared hands it to Jensen, eyebrow raised in a silent question.

Jensen tears off the paper and smiles. He hands the gift over to Jared. It's a picture book with a drawing of himself and Jensen on the cover. "The Ballad of Jensen and Jared," is written in loopy script underneath the picture.

Jared opens the book. Each page has a verse of a poem about the two of them and an illustration to match. It opens with the story of their first two dates and ends with a picture of them and Sadie curled up on the couch together. "Chris made this?" he asks, even though there's really no other explanation.

"He might have had a little help," Jensen admits with a cheeky grin. "Do you like it?"

Jared takes a deep breath. He can feel tears threatening to form in the corners of his eyes. "Like it? It's the best present I've ever gotten." He stands up on slightly shaky legs and kisses Jensen breathless. "God, I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Jensen cups Jared's cheek and gives him a tender kiss. "I've got a couple ideas," he whispers, lips lightly brushing Jared's. 

"I love you so much," Jared says, his voice quivering with emotion.

"I love you too," Jensen replies softly. 

Jared hates to ruin the moment, but his back is starting to ache from leaning over Jensen's chair. He straightens up and pulls Jensen to the couch. Jensen pulls himself onto the couch and Jared takes him in his arms. "I've never been so happy in my entire life," he chokes out, nearly overwhelmed by the strength of his love for Jensen.

Jensen presses his lips to Jared's forehead. "I'm not sure I can top that," he teases gently.

"You don't need to," replies Jared. He rests his chin on top of Jensen's head and slides his hand under Jensen's shirt to rest over his heart. "This is perfect."

Jensen covers Jared's hand with his own. Jared can feel Jensen's heart beating against the pads of his fingers, gentle, but strong and sure. He feels like his own is swelled to ten times its normal size with all the love and affection he has for Jensen. 

"You're the best boyfriend ever," he murmurs.

"Well, I've got some pretty tough competition."

Jared frowns. "Who?"

Jensen chuckles lightly. "You, silly."

"Oh." Jared grins. "We can call it a draw, then."

"Works for me," says Jensen, tipping his head back to kiss Jared's chin.

"Yeah," breathes Jared. "Me too."


End file.
